


Always Been You

by SmoakingGreenArrow



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Robert Queen is a giant jerk, Smut, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 91,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22617319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoakingGreenArrow/pseuds/SmoakingGreenArrow
Summary: On Oliver's last night in Starling, Tommy throws him a yacht party. When his little sister and her best friend show up, Oliver has a hard time hiding the torch he's always carried for Felicity. But he's leaving in the morning...They both know it can only be a one time thing...
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Roy Harper/Thea Queen
Comments: 618
Kudos: 851





	1. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One kiss.
> 
> One kiss won’t ruin everything.
> 
> One kiss won’t change their friendship. It won’t break their hearts.
> 
> One kiss would be worth it.

This isn’t her scene. 

Oliver knows it. Felicity knows it. And everyone at the party probably knows it, too. She would definitely prefer to be holed up in her room with a book, or creating codes, rather than being shoved around on a yacht with music blaring in her ears. 

He knows Felicity Smoak well enough to know that drunk idiots annoy her. Oliver had even _been_ one of those idiots a time or two; his teeth numb from too many beers while he’d try his best to flirt with her. And Felicity would just roll her eyes at him.

Like she’d never even consider taking him seriously.

Yet, for some reason, she had come here tonight. And Oliver’s heart had dropped into his stomach as soon as he watched her climb aboard his parents’ yacht. She’d stepped onto the deck with her hand clutched in Thea’s, making him wonder if his little sister had dragged Felicity to this party kicking and screaming.

That had been an hour ago, and she looks even more out of place now, without Thea by her side. Oliver feels a flash of annoyance towards his sister. His _baby_ sister, who had always loved a good party, soaking up all the attention she could get from older boys. But he knows that even though Felicity and Thea have been friends for years, their level of comfort in the spotlight is very different. Felicity isn’t like Thea in that sense. Thea climbs on top of tables to dance and Felicity's face turns red with secondhand embarrassment. He's seen it all before.

_This isn't her scene._

She's the last person he expected to see here.

So why would Thea bring her?

Ever since Felicity walked in...Oliver hadn’t been able to stop looking at her. He’d probably glanced in her direction at least fifty times in the last thirty minutes since the yacht left the docks. But he doesn’t dare approach her. It might be _his_ party, but he’s not stupid enough to let himself entertain the idea that Felicity Smoak could have come here for him.

To say goodbye.

He’d been fully prepared to leave town without a goodbye. He might have even convinced himself it’d be better that way.

But now she’s here. And he’s having a very hard time ignoring it.

“Ollie,” his best friend sighs dramatically as he sinks down onto the bench beside him. “What’s your deal with Felicity?”

Of course. Tommy had noticed. 

His best friend was hyper-focused on making sure he had the best last night in Starling possible. But Felicity’s presence completely ruined Oliver’s _numb the pain_ _and forget about her_ strategy.

Schooling his expression, Oliver looks away from the window he’d been watching Felicity from, where he can see her standing alone on the top deck with a drink in her hand. She hasn’t taken a single sip of it, he’s sure. 

Oliver meets Tommy’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Tommy just raises an eyebrow, rolling his eyes when Oliver doesn’t give in. “Fine,” his friend shrugs. “Don’t tell me. Maybe I should just go ask _Felicity_ why you’ve been staring at her all night.”

He moves to stand up, and Oliver reaches out to grab his arm, yanking him back with a hard pull and an even harder glare. Tommy wiggles his eyebrows as if it's all a game, and he’s winning.

“She looks hot tonight,” Tommy observes, his voice casual. But he’s played these games before. Tommy knows that Oliver has buttons, and he loves to push them. And he also knows that one of those buttons might as well be named Felicity Smoak. 

All he’s trying to do with the comment is get under Oliver’s skin, urge him to admit what they both already know.

Yes, Felicity looks hot. She always looks hot.

_Yes, he’s noticed._

Oliver narrows his eyes, not wanting to play the button-pushing game tonight, but Tommy tries again. “Come on, Oliver. I’m not just talking about right now. I’ve seen the way you look at Felicity Smoak. For years. And I might not have called you out on it, but I probably should have. A lot sooner than tonight, I mean.”

“Tommy…”

Ignoring the warning in Oliver’s voice, Tommy continues, “look, the way I see it, you have nothing to lose. This is your last night in town...I think it’d be wrong of you _not_ to screw your sister’s hot best friend. If the opportunity presents itself...”

Oliver sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, clenching his jaw, but Tommy shrugs it off. “She has one serious ass,” he taunts. And Oliver feels his temper flare as he watches his friend. Tommy’s eyes roam over Felicity’s body, staring at her through the window while she’s blissfully unaware, leaning over the railing to look down into the water two stories below. “If you don’t sleep with her,” he grins. “I will.”

With a sound that’s close to a growl, Oliver pins him with a warning glare.

What he really wants to do is punch Tommy Merlyn square in the nose. But he settles for a rough shove to his shoulder instead. “Knock it off,” Oliver mumbles, his words holding just as much of a warning as his eyes.

Tommy simply smirks, not intimidated by him in the slightest, despite the fact that Oliver is seriously considering throwing his smug-self overboard.

“Go talk to her before I do,” Tommy sings. “Or worse, before the other dicks on this boat start hitting on her.” He takes a sip of his drink, mumbling into his cup, “lord knows they don’t have the guts to try with you glaring daggers at them. But maybe if they’re drunk enough...”

Looking out at her, he’s taken aback again by how _pretty_ she is. In a way that has captivated him since they met. As much as he hates to admit it, Tommy is right. He’ll probably regret it, big time, if he doesn’t at least _talk_ to Felicity tonight.

And what’s the big deal?

Oliver has seen this girl in her slumber-party pajamas. He’s seen her walking barefoot around his house on countless occasions. He should be desensitized to her by now. Yet every time he sees her, every time he witnesses a new side of Felicity Smoak...he likes her even more.

He likes her. He’s charmed by her. Amused by her. He’s enjoyed every minute he’s spent near her and every conversation they’ve had.

_He likes her._

At least he can admit it. It might have taken him just a little bit too long. It was definitely too late for him to do anything about it. For him to do what he _wanted to do_ about it. But at least he can admit to himself that he likes Felicity. Even if he’ll be keeping that secret to himself…taking it with him when he leaves.

Oliver finishes his drink, sights set on Felicity, and flings his empty plastic cup at Tommy’s head on his way out.

The air is crisp when he steps outside, much too chilly for Felicity’s short, sleeveless dress. Oliver worries about that almost as much as he worries about what to say to her.

Moving slowly, he takes the moment to appreciate her dress; red as her lips and hugging her as if it was made just for her. Her hair; up in a ponytail that hangs loosely down her back, exposing her flawless skin. 

And then he stops just beside her, taking in a deep breath. “Hey,” Oliver nods, pushing his hands into his pockets.

_Well, that was poetic._

Oliver shifts on his feet as he looks down at Felicity, and she tilts her head to see him, her eyebrows raising. She looks surprised to see him, and he knows that the look she gives him is fair. The party had started over an hour ago, and he hadn’t even managed to go near her.

“Hi, Oliver,” Felicity bites her lip, seeming a little uncomfortable as she glances back down at the water slicing beneath the boat. “I was going to come say hi, but I didn’t want to interrupt you and your friends. Thea promised that it was okay for us to come so I just...” 

He winces, feeling guilty that he might’ve made her feel unwelcome by avoiding her. “No,” Oliver meets her gaze. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to ignore you.” 

_Fuck it._

“Look,” Oliver sighs. “I was prepared tonight...to get shit faced with Tommy and say goodbye to all these drunk idiots with one last party. I didn’t know you were coming and I uh...I wasn’t really sure what to say.”

Felicity’s eyebrows push together, her red lips opening with a question that she doesn’t voice. 

“So,” Oliver moves on before she can. Before she asks what he meant, and he’ll tell her honestly...that he doesn’t know how to say goodbye to her. That he doesn't want to. “My sister made you come, and then she abandoned you?”

“Roy Harper is home from college this weekend, too,” Felicity informs him, rolling her eyes. “They’re around here somewhere.”

“Ah,” Oliver nods, still irritated that Thea had ditched Felicity, but at least now he’s not as surprised. Thea had had a crush on Harper for years, but they didn’t get together until after they’d both gone off to college. And they’ve been on and off ever since. “I was wondering if she was still hanging around that jerk.”

Felicity’s lips pulled up in a knowing grin, telling him that she saw through the words. Saw through him. Roy brought out the best in Thea. They were great together. Of course, Oliver can see that. And Felicity knows it.

“Don’t put on that ‘protective big brother’ front to me,” she teased, bumping her shoulder against his. “I know you love Roy.”

Oliver looks down at her again; her flushed cheeks from the ocean breeze, her hair loose and wild as the wind pulls it from her classic ponytail. She looks gorgeous. And his heart aches that it’s not his place to take a step closer. That he missed his chance to be the man who gets to put his arm around her. 

“You didn’t have to come,” Oliver says quietly, changing the subject. “I’m sure Thea could’ve managed on her own.” 

A party on their parents’ yacht with Oliver, Tommy, _and_ Roy in attendance is probably one of the safest parties his sister has ever been to. If there was ever a night for Felicity to take a break from chaperoning Thea’s drunken adventures, this would be it.

At his words, Felicity’s head cocks to the side, her lips turning in a frown. “I wanted to come. I mean, I didn't get a chance to properly say goodbye the other day. Not that I—not that _we_ need a proper goodbye." He stares at her as she pinches her lips together. "Um...is that your way of telling me that you didn’t want me to come to your going away party?”

Oliver inhales, shaking his head adamantly. “No, no...that’s not what I meant at all.”

“Uh huh, sure, ” Felicity tsks, tilting her face back towards the water but watching him out of the corner of her eye. “Maybe I should just drop your gift to the bottom of the ocean then, if you don’t want me here.”

He raises an eyebrow, noting the flirty tone of her voice, baiting him. Leaning forward against the railing, and a little closer to her, Oliver whispers back, “I do want you here.” Felicity narrows her eyes as if she’s trying to decide whether or not she believes him. And Oliver gives her a crooked smile. “You bought me a present?”

“Something like that,” she pulls her lips to the side. “Do you want it now?”

Oliver can sense the flirtation radiating between them, thicker than it had ever been. 

He stares down at her, blatantly wondering where she could be hiding a gift with that dress.

Felicity tips her head back and laughs, reading the expression on his face. “It’s in the closet downstairs,” she shakes her head at him.

He has no idea what’s come over him. Or over her, for that matter. But the sparks between them feel so much less... _innocent_ than he’s used to.

There have always been moments. 

A shy smile directed at him on a lucky day. The way she’d blush if he complimented her. How she would always avoid his gaze in the mornings after she’d slept over with Thea, and they’d find themselves in the kitchen together before everyone else woke up. A couple of occasions when she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder, deep in a movie marathon, a room covered in popcorn while Thea snored on the floor below them. The night she’d gotten into a huge fight with her mother and had come over to their house with red, puffy eyes. He knew she’d been looking for Thea for comfort that night, but Felicity had walked right into his arms when he opened the door, as if _he_ was just as good. 

And Oliver couldn’t remember anything more natural, more real, than those moments with her.

Yet something had always stopped him from crossing that line. From kissing her like he’d been wanting to for a while now. There were always excuses. Interruptions. _Reasons_ why he didn’t deserve someone like her. Since he’d never acted on those desires, Oliver could convince himself that he was mistaken in thinking that maybe she felt the same way.

Besides, it wasn’t like Felicity ever made a move on him, either.

So, it was probably for the best.

They probably just weren’t meant to be.

Yet, tonight feels different. Unexpectedly different. She’s looking at him like she might have feelings for him, too. And his thin excuses break under the pressure of the look in her eyes.

_He has nothing left to lose._

Without a word, a thought, or a care left, Oliver leans back from the railing and gestures towards the stairs at the back of the yacht, letting her lead the way. She nods, and he follows behind her as she walks.

When Felicity reaches the lowest level of the boat, she walks slowly down the hallway until she finally stops at one of the many bedroom doors.

It’s the same room that he usually claims as his own whenever he spends the night on the yacht. _She’d chosen to stash the gift in his bedroom?_

Oliver’s chest tightens as Felicity pushes her way inside.

He hesitates in the doorway, eyes fixed on her while she walks into the room like she’s done it a million times. Like being in his bedroom, alone with him, is a thing that they do. But it's not. And Oliver can't help but notice how right it feels. Following her in, he closes the door silently while Felicity moves across the room.

It’s colder here than on deck, cradled by the dark waves that rock the underside of the boat. And it’s lacking the last touches of summer, the ones that still linger in the air upstairs at the party.

Felicity doesn’t seem to notice though. She steps into the empty closet and reaches for the top shelf, pulling down a small box. Oliver watches as Felicity glances towards the bed, smiling over at him shyly. A flush rises from her chest to her cheeks.

For maybe the first time he can remember...Oliver is _nervous_ around a woman.

The room is dark, and Felicity is only visible by the moonlight coming in through the porthole windows next to the bed. She doesn’t ask him to turn the light on though, and he really is a little bit mesmerized. It’s a snapshot that Oliver wouldn’t mind burning into his memory and taking with him. The dress. The moonlight. The two of them.

So, when Felicity sits down on his bed, raising her eyebrows and tapping the bed in an invitation, he finally exhales. 

The bed dips as he takes a seat next to her, making her slide closer. But Felicity just settles in beside him, her thigh pressing against the side of his. “Hm,” she pinches her lips together, her shoulder melting against his, too. 

Silently, Felicity places the box on his lap, and Oliver watches her expression for another moment before he turns his attention to the gift, his thumb toying with the red bow on top.

Felicity licks her lips, keeping her eyes focused on the box while he stares at her. 

“Open it,” she eventually chuckles, rolling her eyes. “I’m dying from the anticipation over here.”

Sighing, Oliver pushes the lid off with his thumb. 

He had no idea what he’d been expecting, but this was not it. 

“You kept this?” He whispers, reaching in to pull the smooth stone out of the box.

Felicity looks up at him, her lips twitching with that gorgeous, timid smile. “Of course I did.”

Oliver shakes his head, looking back down at the Hōzen. It’d been years since he’d seen it, but there were times in his life where he’d sit in his room and rub his thumb over the obsidian stone for hours.

His father had gotten it for him when he was seven. It was Oliver’s first time traveling on a plane alone, and he’d been so anxious. His dad purchased the Hōzen at a gift shop, giving him something to focus on. 

It had been his good luck charm for most of his childhood, kept safely in his bag wherever he went. Until he finally parted with it about six years ago.

“Do you remember when you gave it to me?” Felicity asks, scrunching her nose at him. 

Oliver smiles, nodding his head. It wasn’t something he would ever forget.

Looking at her now, Oliver’s chest aches with everything he’d left unsaid. All the time he’d wasted fighting his feelings for her. And now he doesn’t have any time left. His next breath is shaky, his eyes swimming, full of emotion that he doesn’t know how to handle, but he really hopes she can feel.

He wants her to know. He wants her to see it.

“Do you remember what you told me?” Felicity leans closer, taking the stone from his hands and holding it up. “You handed this to me...and you said that it always made you feel strong. Safe.”

Oliver nods slowly as she speaks, not daring to break their eye contact when she’s looking at him like this. “That’s why I wanted you to have it,” he answers in a whisper.

“I know. And I thought it was time I gave it back, so it can keep you safe while you’re away...until you come back.”

He sucks in a breath, taking the Hōzen again. “You don’t think you’ll need it?”

Felicity shrugs, “whenever I take off on a big, life-changing move across the world, you can regift it. I won’t mind.”

Oliver chuckles under his breath, squeezing the cool stone in his palm. “Thank you, Felicity,” he tells her honestly. Gratefully. Because this gesture, from her, and this moment _with_ her...it’s everything he needs.

No matter where life takes them, he’s certain that he’ll always care about her.

There will always be a place carved out in his heart for Felicity Smoak.

She nudges her shoulder against his. “Well, it’s a tiny bit selfish,” Felicity admits sheepishly. “I’m kind of hoping it’ll make you think of me. I don’t want to be forgotten in all that Russian excitement.”

His eyes dart up to hers, hearing the humor in her voice. But he _knows_ her. And he knows that there’s an undertone of truth in her words. A sliver of doubt. Oliver shakes his head seriously, leaning closer without even realizing. “I could never forget you. You’ve made my life so much better, just by being in it.” His words are slow and deliberate, making sure that they’re sinking in with her. Because he wants her to know. He needs her to understand what he’s never had the courage to say. 

And for the first time, he’s beginning to regret his decision to leave.

“I’m going to miss you... _very_ _much_ , Felicity.”

Her eyes don’t leave his, but he sees her expression change, ever so slightly. Her eyes swell with tears, her mouth opening in confusion. He’s not sure he’s ever been so candid with her. All of his layers of charm and deflection peeled back, allowing her to see the truth in his eyes.

And Oliver waits for her questions. He waits for her to ask for an explanation. Because there’s no way Felicity would let him off the hook. It’s one of his favorite things about her.

To Oliver’s surprise though, she doesn’t speak. Felicity keeps her gaze locked on him, her eyes still searching, looking for some kind of answer there. 

Unsure how she’ll react, Oliver lifts his hand and slowly brushes his thumb over her cheek, pushing back a stray piece of hair. Felicity shivers, her eyes fluttering shut. 

_God, he’s never wanted to kiss someone more than he wants to kiss her in that moment._

But he is too afraid of what that will mean. What that would damage. Too worried that it could scare her off, or it’s not what she wants, and he could ruin everything.

But...she leans into his touch, humming softly. And the energy in the air raises along with his heartbeat.

This is his little sister’s best friend. A girl that he’s always looked out for. A girl he’ll always have a soft spot for. Crossing this line with her...he’ll never be able to uncross it. 

Just as Oliver is doubting whether or not it’s worth the can of worms he’d be opening, Felicity opens her eyes again and looks up at him. Her pupils are wide and her eyelids heavy, and something inside of Oliver just _breaks_. 

He knows as soon as their eyes meet that she wants him as much as he wants her. Even if they’ve never discussed it, even if they’ve always been careful not to acknowledge it.

One kiss.

One kiss won’t ruin everything.

One kiss won’t change their friendship. It won’t break their hearts.

One kiss would be _worth it._

His fingers slide down her arms, and Oliver suddenly finds himself leaning closer. Her breath hitches in her throat, and Oliver pauses, whispering her name. _Asking._

Felicity stares back at him with nothing but certainty in her eyes. Slowly, she leans in, rubbing her nose against his, and Oliver lets out a shaky breath.

In an instant, her lips are on his.

Felicity Smoak is kissing him, and her lips are soft, and she tastes like fruity lip gloss, and her hands move across his chest, clutching his shirt and pulling him closer. It’s sweet, slow, and maybe a little bit careful. And Oliver wants to savor it.

He lets his hands roam into her hair like he’s thought about doing a time or two before, deepening the kiss. Oliver can’t help but smile against her lips. He’d like nothing more than to burn this memory into his brain; the way she tastes, the adorable moan she gives him when he parts her lips with his own, how it makes him feel when she wraps her arms around his neck and scrapes her fingers through his hair.

So, with nothing left to regret, Oliver grabs Felicity’s hips, hearing the box and the Hōzen slip off his lap and land on the floor. 

When he tugs her closer, Felicity turns towards him, breaking the kiss so she can climb onto his lap. His hands run up her sides, his fingers tightening. Felicity’s mouth is red from his beard, and she grins down at him. _Sexy as hell._

She rolls her hips, her center rubbing against his hardening length, and Oliver chokes on his breath at the unexpected sensation. 

He has no idea what this means. What they’re doing. But Oliver would be lying if he said that it isn’t everything he imagined it would be. He’s along for whatever ride Felicity has in mind.

Felicity kisses him again; breathy little moans escaping, spurring him on. And quickly, he’s rock hard and damn near _desperate_ to take her clothes off. 

She whimpers, her dress too tight to allow her the friction she’s looking for. So he hikes the skirt up higher, his hands eager as he touches her thighs, dipping his fingers further back to cup her ass. 

Felicity’s lips move to his neck, exploring his skin with her tongue. 

_God_ , _her_ _kisses_ _are_ _intoxicating_. 

And it's all turning him on like he’s never felt before. “Felicity,” Oliver moans her name, his hands slipping under her dress. He drags his thumbs soothingly across her thighs, pulling her body closer. 

Felicity moans back, brazenly taking the pleasure she craves as she circles her hips again.

All she’s doing is rubbing her center against his cock, her panties and his jeans still between them. Yet it’s driving him crazy, pushing him higher and higher with each thrust of her body.

It’s nothing like Oliver has ever experienced. The intense arousal, the wet spot she’s leaving on his pants, her smell, combined with the familiarity of _her._ The awareness that this is _Felicity._ The only Felicity. 

_His_ Felicity.

But no...

With deliberate slowness, Oliver slides his hands higher, listening to her ragged breaths outside his ear. When he reaches her underwear, he hooks his fingers over the material at her waist. Felicity continues to writhe, her breath catching in anticipation of his fingers.

Taking a moment, Oliver leans back an inch and looks up at her. Felicity’s hands tighten in his hair, her body surging above him. And he waits until she opens her eyes. As soon as their eyes meet, he smiles, pressing his thumb over the lace thong that covers her, feeling how wet she is.

“Felicity,” Oliver groans. “I want to touch you.” It’s honest, his voice gruff.

“Yes,” she whines back, rocking her hips closer, rubbing herself against his thumb.

In the back of his mind, he wonders if this is a good idea. There are a dozen reasons for them to press pause. To stop. To think.

Maybe if they did, they’d decide that they’ve let it get out of hand. Too much, too fast. Maybe she’d tell him that it was a mistake. Maybe, if he was a better man, Oliver would be able to take a step back before it’s too late.

Slowly, he circles his thumb again, gently pushing between her folds. 

Felicity’s body reacts, squirming to meet his touch.

“I want you to,” she breathes back, voice breathless and beautiful. And Oliver’s eyes jump to her face. “I want you to touch me.”

Her blue eyes are dark as she gazes down at him, wrapping one of her arms around his neck. She uses the grip to hold herself steady, rocking her hips against his thumb, her underwear soaked. And Oliver groans as Felicity reaches between them to move the lace out of the way, pushing her panties aside. Then she takes his hand, her eyes still on his as she guides his fingers to touch her.

Felicity bites her lip, her breath uneven while she squirms against his hand. Oliver’s attention flickers downward, watching her movements and feeling his cock getting harder at the sight.

And then he takes over, experimentally rubbing her clit in slow circles with his thumb. 

Part of him wants to close his eyes and get lost in the weight of her body pressing against him, the weight of his name when it breaks free from her lips. But the bigger part of him can’t take his eyes off of her.

Felicity’s skin is still raw from his beard, her lipstick somewhat smudged. Her eyes are closed and her mouth hangs open in gorgeous pleasure as he quickens his pace. 

It’s not an expression he’s ever seen on her face before. _And it’s fucking mesmerizing._ Her eyebrows furrow in concentration, focused on what he's doing. Oliver rubs faster, then slower, then faster again. And Felicity moans.

He smiles, admiring the look on her face. She narrows her eyes at him, her hips still moving in shallow thrusts. “You’re teasing me,” Felicity accuses.

Unable to look away, Oliver shakes his head innocently. But his lips twitch with a smile, because she’s not entirely wrong. He wants to tease her, hear her moan his name, watch as the pleasure he brings her takes control of her body. “I would never,” he whispers under his breath.

Oliver slides his fingers lower, circling her entrance with his middle finger. Felicity gasps, her arm around his neck tightening, her hand clutching at the hair on the back of his head.

She rocks against him, making his fingers sink in deeper, pulling him in, and Oliver hisses, “fuck, Felicity.”

She’s so wet, her juices coating his finger to his palm as she continues to move. And he can only imagine how fucking amazing it would feel to have a different part of him buried inside of her. To feel her warm, tight walls pulsing around him, because _fuck, she’s tight._

At the thought, Oliver slips his finger out, and Felicity whimpers at the loss. He sucks in a breath, staring at her face while he adds a second finger, pushing them both in gently, deeper than before. Felicity lets out a loud moan, her head tipping back.

“Look at me,” Oliver mumbles, pulling his fingers out with attentive slowness...waiting for her to meet his eyes. And when she does, he shoves them back inside her, hard and fast, curling his fingers and making her cry out. “Oh my god,” he groans, clenching his teeth and biting back his own pleasure coiling in his stomach.

Felicity plasters herself against him, riding his fingers as he hits a spot deep inside her, his fingers sliding in and out of her in quick strokes. His other arm winds around her waist, holding her as tightly as she’s holding him.

“Oliver,” Felicity breathes his name, “yes, Oliver... _yes._ ”

His name. Her mouth. The exciting yet comfortable feeling that floods his chest. It’s almost too much.“Oh god, Felicity, you’re so wet,” he grits back. “You’re fucking perfect.” 

The incitement of Felicity’s body is impossible to resist; her slick walls pulsing around him, her responsive moans with every curl of his fingers, driving into her, her juices dripping down his hand. The friction as she rubs against his cock is amazing, but it isn’t nearly enough...and he feels ready to combust.

His hips rock off the bed, his fingers plunging deeper, curling with each stroke. “Oh,” Felicity gasps, her legs tightening around him as he lifts her off the bed with his shallow thrusts. “Oh my god.”

Both of her arms wrap around his shoulders and her fingers knot into his hair. “I want you to come, Felicity,” Oliver tells her, his voice low, the husky sound rumbling from his chest to hers. Oliver can feel how close she is, her thighs shaking on either side of him, her body tensing as he moves his hand faster. In and out, the sound of his fingers fucking her filling his ears, and his arm aches with the effort.

Felicity’s mouth drops open, her eyes squeezing shut as she grips his hair in her fist, making his eyes water when she _pulls._ “Fuck,” Felicity whimpers, which might be the first curse he’s ever heard come from her lips.

Oliver growls, somehow turned on even more to hear it. “Come for me, Felicity… I want to feel you come.”

Turning his hand over, Oliver pushes his thumb through her wet folds, rubbing her sensitive clit in hard, unrelenting circles. Her forehead bumps against his with a painful, dull thud, but neither of them care. She opens her eyes to look into his, blissed blue color that pierces straight to his soul. And Oliver keeps his two fingers firmly inside of her, letting her ride them wildly as her legs shake where she straddles him. He presses the spot inside of her as he teases her clit, the pads of his fingers hitting it again and again, and the combination makes her scream. 

“Shit, Felicity,” he whispers, admiring every inch of her without allowing either of them a second to breathe.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she chants. As if he’d even dream of it. 

Felicity freezes, her lips grazing his as she releases a euphoric moan. Music to his ears. Oliver runs his free hand from the nape of her neck down the length of her spine. And then he grabs her ass, as much of it as he can, and moves her body to match the rhythm of his fingers still plunging inside of her over and over.

“Fuuuck,” Felicity cries out, a shiver coursing through her as she pulls her head away from his, only to bury her face in his neck.

And that’s exactly how they are when a knock interrupts them. Oliver’s head snaps towards the door, his hold on Felicity tightening. Not wanting to let go. Not wanting the spell to break. Not wanting this to end.

She doesn’t move, her body still rigid and her thighs still shaking as she whimpers. The knock sounds again. And Oliver realizes that Felicity is still riding a wave of pleasure. He huffs, turning his face back toward her, easing his fingers to slow down, letting her catch her breath. 

Oliver presses his cheek to the top of her head, forgetting about his own needs as he closes his eyes, taking in the gentle smell of strawberries and ocean breeze that lingers in her hair. 

He wouldn’t mind keeping his fingers where they are, seeing if he can bring her to another orgasm even faster a second time. He’d be happy to ignore whoever is at the door until they go away. He’d be perfectly content to ignore the rest of this stupid party and stay in this room with Felicity until… Until he has to go.

But the insistent knock breaks through their comfortable silence, and this time Felicity seems to notice. She picks her head up from his neck, her eyes wide as she stares at him.

Oliver blinks back, slowly sliding his hand out from under her dress while he watches Felicity bite her lip. Her inner walls squeeze his fingers as he pulls them out, like she’s not quite ready to stop either.

“Oliver!” Roy’s voice carries into the room. “Dude, they want to cut the cake! Get your ass upstairs!”

Felicity gasps, instantly moving to scramble off of him, but Oliver grips her thigh to stop her, his wet fingers digging in as his other hand tightens on her ass. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he calls back to Roy, staying still while they listen to him grumble about wanting cake _now,_ his footsteps shuffling back down the hall.

Above him, Felicity holds on to Oliver’s shoulders, her nails biting at his back. And her eyes meet his. Unsure of what to say, he stares at her, not moving an inch. But Felicity squirms against him. “Um,” she leans back, “we should get back up there before anyone notices.”

Pinching his lips together, Oliver lets her go, not bothering to point out that someone probably has already. And even if they haven’t...she wasn’t exactly quiet. 

He didn’t care a single bit. From the moment he kissed her until right now, he didn’t regret any of it. But the look on Felicity’s face as she climbs off of him sets his stomach in knots. 

Gone was the easygoing, confident look in her eyes. 

She looks uncomfortable. Like she feels out of place. The same expression she’d been wearing when she first stepped onto the yacht. Except this time, it isn't a sea of strangers that she offers a stiff smile to. It's him.

“Felicity…” Oliver stands up, reaching out for her, but she takes a step back. He stares at her, at a loss over how quickly her disposition shifted. 

“We should get back,” she whispers. “There are people waiting to say goodbye to you.”

 _I don’t care about them,_ he wants to say. He wished he’d said. But instead he just stands there while she adjusts her dress back into place. 

Felicity opens the door, turning back towards him. “I’ll um...I’ll go find Thea. Come up in a few minutes?”

_Wait._

He wants to stop her. He should have stopped her. 

Instead, Oliver slumps onto the bed as she leaves, closing the door on him and whatever chance he had to tell her how he felt.

But what was he supposed to say? What _could_ he say? Everything he wanted to tell her would only make all of this worse in the morning...when he has to get on a plane and go. 

Clearly, Felicity wants to avoid that conversation. Even if he doesn’t...the last thing he wants to do is hurt her.

After a few minutes, he follows her up to the top deck where everyone is waiting, the crowd erupting into cheers. His eyes search for Felicity, holding his breath when he finally finds her.

She smiles at him, just as warm and kind as he’s always known her to be. But there’s sadness on her face, too. The same realization in her eyes that he was forced to acknowledge. 

They’d been close. Just on the cliff of falling in love. But they didn’t jump soon enough. They’d missed the chance. 

Felicity Smoak is everything he wants. He knows it now more than ever. She’s right for him. He knows it in his gut. He’s confident that he would’ve stepped up, too.

He could have been the man that deserves her. He would have handed her his heart without hesitating. He should have realized it sooner.

* * *

_Three months later_

When Oliver left home, he thought that he was ready. He was expecting to get to a brand new city, start his internship, and blaze his own path in his family’s company. He thought that Moscow would be hard work, but he’d also expected it to be an adventure. A clean slate. A clean break...from all the messes he’d made in Starling.

Yet...it’s been three months and his last night at home still haunts him. Of course Oliver had to make one more mess before he left. Before he took off across the world without looking back. But he should’ve known better. He should’ve known that as soon as he kissed Felicity Smoak for the first time, it would change everything. And he should have talked himself out of it like he’d had to do a million times before that night.

The one thing Oliver never expected to happen, happened. 

And now the view from his office window isn’t as exciting as he thought it would be. He doesn’t see a city full of potential to venture out in. Instead, it feels like for the first time, he’d actually stood a chance at getting what he’d always wanted...and now Moscow feels like the thing stopping him. It was supposed to be the other way around. But he was miserable.

With a sigh, Oliver leans back in his chair, letting his thoughts get carried away. He fought with himself again and again to call her. Every night for the past three months, Oliver has sat in his office and talked himself out of it. But...his resolve is dwindling. 

_He misses her too damn much._

On his desk, his phone chimes with a text, and Oliver grabs it immediately, opening the message from Thea. He smiles down as he reads it, a simple ‘miss you, big bro! Xoxo’ accompanied by a picture she’d snapped at the traditional Queen Family Dinner that’s a staple for every Sunday night. 

Just like every one he’d been a part of, Robert is sitting at the head of the table in Thea’s picture. His mother is sitting to his right. The chair on his father’s left is empty, which makes Oliver feel a twinge of homesickness. 

But the gloom fades quickly when he looks at Thea and Felicity seated side by side across the table. 

It reminds him of countless dinners, sitting across from his sister and her best friend, watching how much they’d changed week to week. 

The weekly dinners had gone from being a chore to something Oliver looked forward to, ever since Thea met Felicity when they were in sixth grade. That was when Thea started inviting Felicity over, and Oliver was amused by not only the fact that Felicity continued to come back willingly, but that she and Thea grew closer and closer as the years passed.

He’d developed his own soft spot in his heart for Felicity Smoak. Just like every member of his family had. He’d seen all the ups and downs of Thea’s friendship with her, and he had always respected how genuine it was. Honest and healthy. Felicity brought something to their house that had seriously been lacking before she started coming around. She was probably the best thing that happened to Thea’s teenage years. She was an incredible friend to his baby sister, and Oliver appreciated that there’s someone else in Thea’s life who loves her and always has her back. 

But that had only been the beginning of his fondness for Felicity Smoak...

Zooming in on the picture, Oliver bites his lip as he stares down at the goofy expression on Felicity’s face, her mouth open as she winks at the camera. He has no idea if she knew that Thea intended to send the picture to him. He can’t possibly know what was going through her head the moment of this snapshot, but she looks just as happy and beautiful as he remembers. 

It contrasts the expression on her face that’s been stuck in his mind since he last saw her. The way she’d looked at him with a tense, awkward smile that night while she fixed her dress and left his bedroom. And it makes him feel like everything is okay.

Closing out of his texts, Oliver pulls up Felicity’s name in his contacts. His thumb hovers over the screen for just a moment, and then he lets out a sharp breath, and a moment later...it’s ringing.

He closes his eyes, his heart hammering so loudly in his chest that he can hear it in his ears.

She doesn’t answer on the third ring, or the fourth, and Oliver slumps in his chair, afraid that he’s about to get her voicemail. He wonders if he should hang up before he’s forced to leave the world’s most embarrassing message, since he has no idea what he plans to say to her anyway.

“Oliver?” Her groggy voice finally answers.

“Hey,” Oliver breathes, relieved and nervous all at once. Then he flinches. “I woke you...I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about time zones.”

“No,” her voice rises, waking up. “No, it’s okay. It’s...totally okay.” A long pause passes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies instantly, fidgeting in his seat. He lets out a long sigh, giving up on pretending for someone who has always seen right through him. “Actually, I don’t know… Thea sent me a picture from family dinner earlier. I guess it just made me miss...everyone.”

Felicity hesitates, and Oliver can hear her sheets ruffling as she gets comfortable, and he can’t help but see her room in his head. “Everyone misses you too, Oliver.”

His eyes slip shut. How many conversations like this have they had? Where he always wonders and hopes that there’s something _more_ than what it seems. Where he’d _swear_ that he could feel something in the way she looked at him sometimes. How many days had he let pass by without saying anything? 

Too many. All of them, really.

And he’s just so sick of always skirting around each other. 

“I miss _you_ , Felicity.” Oliver whispers, the words leaving him as if he’s confessing every secret feeling he’s ever kept hidden. “I miss you a lot, actually.”

It feels so good to say it, he’s not even concerned with the silence from the other end. Or when she squeaks out a surprised “oh” in response. 

“Is that…” he clears his throat. “Is that okay? That I miss you?”

“Well, um...what does that mean, exactly?”

Oliver smiles, hearing her nervousness and imagining the adorable crease forming between her eyebrows. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Or what happened between us.”

It’s barely audible, but he’s sure that he hears her whimper. “And what do you think about?” Felicity’s voice is just as quiet, making him lean forward on his desk as if it’ll help him hear her better. 

“That night in my room,” he replies, since the memory has been impossible to get out of his brain. Although he hasn’t exactly been trying. _It’s his favorite daydream_. “I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Really?”

Her hesitation is clear. Doubt dripping from her voice that makes his heart feel heavy. How has she been thinking about that night for the last few months? What has she been assuming about _him_?

Oliver quickly pushes on, not wanting to take ten steps backwards when he’s finally just taken one forward. Or two, if that night in Starling counts as a step in the right direction. And he hopes that it does. At least...it felt very right. “I miss you, Felicity,” he says again. Because it feels really good to say. “I thought I was prepared for this time away. But I—I wasn’t prepared for what happened that night. And now I just...I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About _you_.”

Felicity chuckles breathlessly, “that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“No,” he relaxes a bit, her laugh bringing a smile to his face. “It’s not a bad thing at all.”

She sighs, “so...Russia isn’t exactly the thrill ride you’d hoped it would be?”

Oliver shrugs even though she can’t see it. “I couldn’t wait to get out of Starling. And now… I’m pretty sure everything I want is back at home.”

Felicity’s breath catches, and Oliver listens for any indication that he might have upset her, that this phone call might not be what she wants to hear. But when Felicity speaks again, he can hear the smile in her voice. “I can’t stop thinking about you either," she whispers. "Although, I _am_ a little surprised to hear you say that. Since I, uh, probably enjoyed that night much more than you did, considering I didn’t even touch you and you...touched me plenty.”

Oliver shivers, his cock twitching just at the memory. “Believe me, Felicity,” he answers lowly. “I enjoyed that very, very much.”

She hums, and he closes his eyes again, just basking in the sound of her voice. Three months without hearing it...yet they fall into the same easy banter they’ve always shared. “For the record,” Felicity sighs. “I miss you a lot, too, Oliver.”

He lets out a long breath of relief. At least he’s not alone in that. “Would it um, would it be okay if I called you again?” 

He has to ask. He _has_ to.

“So we can, I don’t know...talk more about this? Maybe sometime when it’s not the middle of the night for you?”

Felicity pauses, leaving him on the edge of his seat for a short moment. And then she answers quietly, "I would like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think :)


	2. Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had only meant for it to be an innocent kiss.
> 
> He had only meant to linger, to remember how good it feels.
> 
> He had only meant to taste her, but it only takes a moment for a spark to catch.

Oliver is up and out of his chair as soon as Curtis Holt knocks on the door. He waves his employee into his office, noticing the way Mr. Holt nervously smiles back. His employee opens the glass door and pokes his head inside. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Queen?”

“Yes, Curtis, come in.” Oliver waves again, amused by the man’s apparent nerves.

Pinching his lips together, Curtis steps into his office and slowly closes the door, and Oliver realizes that this is the first time he’s called him up there. “You’re not in trouble,” Oliver raises an eyebrow, teasing the poor guy like they’d come to do over the last few months.

Queen Consolidated’s Moscow office runs like a well-oiled machine. Sometimes his presence feels more like finding where he can help rather than where he’s needed. And Oliver is glad for it, because it has given him a chance to swallow his pride for once and _learn_ from the people that work for him. He hadn’t been prepared for that experience. But he appreciated it all the same, allowing himself to be surprised every day. As their brand new and completely inexperienced boss, Oliver has done his best to get to know his employees and let them get to know him, too. Luckily, they were all in a much better place than they’d been four months ago. Most of the people in the building seem to respect him for his work, and they seem less afraid of his last name. Well, at least to his face.

“I have a favor to ask,” Oliver rounds his desk, grabbing the file on his way. “My father expects this budget report to be done today, and I could really use help from...honestly, from someone much smarter than me, to look it over…”

Curtis smiles, the tension leaving his shoulders. “Oh my god, okay, of course. I thought you might’ve been about to fire me so this is...yes. Of course I’ll take a look.”

Oliver nods, handing him the file. “Thank you, Curtis. I really appreciate it. I have some things I have to get done this afternoon before my flight tomorrow and this is a huge help.”

The other man’s smile widens as he taps the file against his palm, following Oliver out of the office. “No problem, Mr. Queen. I’ll email you when I’m finished and your dad should have it by the end of the day.”

With a sigh of relief, Oliver walks beside Curtis towards the elevators, happy to have at least one thing off his plate for the day. Because he knows his two week trip is going to be hell.

Well, as far as _work_ is concerned, it’ll be hell.

His dad has all kinds of assessments and reviews to go over with him. Which basically means that Robert wants to tear apart Oliver’s leadership in their Moscow branch and tell him how he should be running things, face to face.

Stepping into the elevator, he puts his hand out to stop the door from closing, looking at Curtis again. “Oh, and Mr. Holt...you’re definitely not getting fired. I rely on you too much.” Oliver winks, getting Curtis all flustered and rambling again, which is truly just too amusing for him to stop doing it.

“Right, yeah, cool. I—uh—thank you, Mr. Queen.”

Shaking his head, Oliver steps back, letting the doors shut as Curtis calls after him, “Have a safe trip! See you soon!”

Oliver can’t exactly say that he loves living in Moscow. Most of the time, he would much rather be back in Starling, for a whole list of reasons...and the first thing on that list is definitely Felicity Smoak. But during the day, when the QC branch is full of people who smile and nod at him in the halls, employees who he values and who, in turn, respect him as a leader...Oliver feels like he’s in his element. 

If he could just pick up this building and bring it home with him, he can’t help but think that he would stand a real chance at having everything he ever wanted.

But of course, that was impossible.

The work that his father tasked him with is in Moscow.

And the woman he can’t stop thinking about is in Starling.

Oliver feels a wall of butterflies hit his stomach, remembering that at least for the next two weeks, he _will_ be able to have the best of both worlds.

Taking out his phone, he types a quick text: _Just leaving work. Can I call you in a few?_

Luckily, her answer comes quickly: _I’ll try to keep my eyes open._

Oliver: _Please do. I’d really like to see them._

Felicity: _Don’t get your hopes too high, Mr. Queen. They are exhausted from hours and hours of studying for midterms._

Oliver: _I’m sure they’re just as beautiful as always._

Felicity: _You’re such a dork._

He’s grinning down at his phone, imagining the way Felicity would roll her eyes at him with that comment. But she would also blush. Her cheeks tend to turn an adorable shade of pink when he compliments her. She always looks a little bit surprised when he tells her how gorgeous he thinks she is. So he makes it a point to do it often.

Too distracted by his phone, Oliver doesn’t notice the doors of the elevator opening or someone stepping inside with him until Isabel Rochev is standing next to him. 

His smile quickly falls, his back stiffening as he drops his phone back into the pocket of his pants. “Ms. Rochev.”

He takes a casual step back, and Isabel leans forward. “Skipping out early, Mr. Queen?”

“I have some things to finish up before I leave,” he answers, his smile tight.

If there was one thing he would change about Queen Consolidated, it would be Isabel Rochev. He’s well aware that she’d rather see him dead than running this branch. And not just because he’s heard through the rumor mill that she thinks he’s an ‘arrogant, irresponsible buffoon.’ 

_Thank you, Curtis Holt, for repeating that one._

Despite that though, Oliver has done his best not to stoop to Isabel’s level. He knows that her hatred, as much as it annoys him, is warranted. Before his dad gave him this job, Isabel Rochev, and pretty much everyone at Queen Consolidated, expected her to get the promotion. He imagined that it felt like a slap in the face not to get it, and to now have to answer to someone with zero experience.

Oliver is also fully aware that if his last name wasn’t Queen, he wouldn’t be here.

He knows that and so does everyone in the company. So all he can do is prove to himself, his father, and these people, that he’s capable.

One person he doubts he’ll ever win over though, is Ms. Rochev. She’s been taking subtle, and some not so subtle, digs at him for four months.

Not that it’s anything he can’t handle, but the tension is usually thick between them...since she hates him, and he knows that. And she probably knows that he knows that. The confined space of the elevator only hightens that tense, awkward air.

Luckily for him, the doors open into the lobby then, and he’s offered a much-needed escape. 

Oliver offers Isabel a polite smile as he exits, “I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. Just give me a call if you need anything.” And it kills him to even have to say it. But she’s in charge while he’s away, per his father’s delegation.

“I’m sure I can handle it, Mr. Queen.” Isabel steps back from the doors, crossing her arms as she crosses one high-heeled shoe over the other. “Enjoy your time at home,” she smirks as the doors begin to close. “And tell your dad I said _hi_ , okay?”

He doesn’t look away until the doors slide shut, refusing to give her any indication that she bothers him. Isabel had worked closely with Robert for years before he had her transferred to the Moscow branch eight years ago. 

Of course, Oliver could put two and two together. He couldn’t be sure what had happened between Isabel and his father. Nor did he want to know. But Isabel had been taunting him ever since he got here, making him quite certain that there had been _something_ . Between Isabel Rochev. And his _dad._

_Gross._

When he was twelve, Oliver had seen his father at the house with his mom’s friend once. He’d watched them kiss in one of the hallways, during a brunch his parents were hosting, where they thought no one could see. And rather than telling his mom, Oliver ran off to his room and pretended it never happened. 

Ever since, he’d never been brave enough to confront Robert about that day. Too afraid that it would hurt Moira if Robert was forced to admit that he was unfaithful. And more than that, Oliver had just been a kid who was terrified of blowing his entire world up. Being the reason that his family spiraled out of control.

But, now that he was older, he understood that the one instance he had witnessed was probably not a moment of weakness or a lapse of judgement on his father’s part. Oliver couldn’t say that he would be surprised if Isabel Rochev was one of many women who his dad had cheated with.

If he’s being perfectly honest, though...Oliver doesn’t feel all that differently than he had when he was a kid. He doesn’t want to have to tell his mom. He doesn’t want to confront his father. He doesn’t even want to think about it.

And Isabel makes him think about it. A lot.

Oliver quickly makes his way out of the building and through the parking lot, pushing all thoughts about his dad and Isabel out of his head. As soon as he reaches his car, he pulls out his phone, calling Felicity and listening to it ring before he even has the door closed.

“Hi,” her groggy voice comes through, and Oliver glances down at his screen as he gets settled behind the wheel. He sighs when he looks at her; her hair a gorgeous mess that covers her pillow and her face free of makeup. She has the blanket pulled up to her chest, only the silky straps of her shirt visible. 

A smile pulls at Felicity’s lips, her eyes softening as she takes in the sight of him, just as he’s doing with her. “Why are you in your car?”

Oliver chuckles, his eyes flickering towards the busy street. “I’m sitting outside QC. I was afraid you’d fall asleep on me if I waited to call.”

Rolling her eyes, Felicity turns onto her stomach, adjusting her pillow under her chin and holding her phone out in front of her. “I could have waited until you got home.” But then she yawns, covering her mouth, her eyes taking a moment longer to open. And Oliver has seen enough of sleepy-Felicity to know that it probably wasn’t true.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles, watching as she forces her eyes open again. “I wanted to see you.”

Felicity hums, “you’re going to be seeing a lot of me for the next two weeks.” Then she frowns, her eyebrows pushing together. “Um, not a lot of _me_.” 

Oliver’s breath catches.

“Well, a lot of my face. We have to plan Thea’s birthday dinner, and I told your mom I’d help out with your dad’s launch party,” She laughs nervously, “is it kind of hitting you just how much we _haven’t_ talked about? Because it’s freaking me out a little bit.”

Oliver smiles, watching her for a moment as she chews on her lip. “I’ll worry about getting Thea’s dinner together. Just send me a list of the things she wants and I’ll find something I can cook on it, since I _know_ she made a list.” 

Felicity laughs, and Oliver stops to look down at her. At the screen that feels like the biggest barrier between them at the moment. “I’m sure my mom is a little stressed with the party,” he says slowly and Felicity hums in agreement. “So, we’ll just try to help her out with whatever she needs.”

Felicity nods, letting out a deep breath as she stares back at him. “Of course. It’s your mom...she stresses, but her results are always flawless.” Her eyes start to get heavy again, and Oliver just watches her, amused. “But you know, I didn’t just mean that stuff...when I said there’s a lot we haven’t talked about.”

“I know,” Oliver whispers, his head dropping back against the seat.

“It’s just...it’s been easy enough to ignore because you haven’t been here. But...what are we telling everyone, Oliver? I mean...what are we doing?” His heart hammers in his chest as he leaves her question hanging.

_Falling in love._

_Starting something real, if he’s lucky._

“We’re talking,” he answers lamely instead.

“Yeah,” Felicity bites her lip, “and it’s been great. But on the yacht we also—you know, did a little more than talk. And we haven’t really talked about the more than talking thing that happened on the yacht. So I just can’t help but wonder…”

“Felicity,” Oliver tries to keep his voice even. There’s so much he wants to tell her. There are years of pent up feelings he’s been trying to keep in check because they have _one more night_ until he can see her. “I think that this is something we should talk about when I’m home. I don’t want to put pressure on us, whatever this is, but I’m honestly kind of hoping that when I get back, we can,” he huffs, “I don’t know, that we can try to figure this all out.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Felicity mulls over his words, and he watches as every beautiful wheel starts to turn in her head in a matter of seconds. “Okay,” she finally whispers, giving him a small smile. “I think that makes sense.”

Looking down at her, Oliver narrows his eyes, seeing it on her face that something is still bothering her. “What’s wrong?”

Felicity’s eyes slide back to him, and she scrunches up her nose. “Nothing! I want to talk about all of this when you get here, figure it out between you and me before we say anything to anyone else. I—I’m totally with you on that, but I just...I think I need more, now, for _me_ , you know?”

Oliver opens his mouth, then closes it. Then he asks carefully, “what do you mean?” 

She groans, covering her face with one hand. And Oliver wishes he was there to pull her fingers away, to give himself a proper look at her face. As if her eyes might just tell him what she’s thinking. “ _Fe-li-ci-ty,_ ” he sings her name instead. “Look at me.” He smiles when she does, peeking out from between her fingers. “What else do you want to know? Come on...I’d tell you anything.”

“Do you like me?” She blurts out. And Oliver completely freezes.

“What?”

Felicity begins to squirm, making his head spin as she flails her phone around in an attempt to sit up. “You’re just always so smooth with the compliments and the charm and that _smirk_ , and I…” She sighs, pushing her hair behind her ear and not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know.”

Instinctively, Oliver has a hard time not feeling a little bit hurt. He thought he’d made it obvious how he feels about her. Compliments, charm, and smirks aside. But maybe she needs to hear it bluntly. She’d always been a straightforward kind of person. And if that’s the case, then Oliver has no problem making himself perfectly clear. “I like you, Felicity.”

“You do?” Felicity asks, pinching her lips together to fight a smile.

Damn it, he’ll say it every day if she needs him to. “I do,” Oliver whispers back. 

“Now...is that in like...a _like_ like kind of way. Or more of a, ‘I like you as my sister’s dorky best friend’ kind of way?”

“I _like_ like you. A lot.”

“Oh,” Felicity blinks.

Oliver grins at her expression, her wide eyes and the blush rising to her cheeks. _God, he loves it._

“Oh,” she gapes at him. “Okay, yeah...I _like_ like you a lot, too.”

In all honesty, he understands why she had to ask. Why she needed this clarification given his reputation; one she’s heard all about from Thea, and surely seen for herself after all the nights she’s spent at the mansion. And he understands why Felicity might feel a little caught off guard to have him suddenly giving her all this attention, calling her almost every night. But Oliver already has a plan.

He has two weeks to show her.

He has two weeks at home to make sure Felicity sees how much he’s changed and how ready he is to be with her. To be _serious_. And by the time he has to come back to Russia, he hopes that they can be in an even better place than they are now. A more stable place, where she doesn’t question how he feels about her.

“And Felicity,” Oliver pauses, looking into her eyes as he admits, “you have never just been my sister’s dorky friend to me.”

* * *

_Thirty hours later_

Felicity: _what time does your plane land again?_

Oliver grins down at his phone, replying quickly before the plane takes off: _4:00pm, your time._

Felicity: _you’re going to be exhausted._

Oliver: _I’ll be fine. Knowing that I’ll see you at dinner makes it worth it._

Felicity: _And you’re sure Tommy knows when to pick you up from the airport?_

Oliver: _Your lack of faith in him is fair. But he’ll remember._

Felicity: _If you say so. Text me when you land?_

“Sir,” the flight attendant gets his attention, smiling from the aisle beside his seat. “Phones away, please.”

Oliver pockets his phone, raising his hands innocently, “sorry.”

The attendant smiles again, making her way to the back of the jet. He listens as they get ready for takeoff, but his eyes are already heavy and he’s struggling to keep them open before they’re even in the air.

Aside from the first flight he had to take alone, Oliver has always loved flying. The fact that Queen Consolidated owns private jets probably helps… But even as a kid, he’d loved to look out the window for hours, finding something incredibly peaceful about flying through the clouds.

Yet, today, he didn’t have a chance to look out at the world getting smaller as the plane brought them higher and higher. Thanks to all the late nights at work, or late nights on the phone with Felicity, Oliver hadn’t been in the best sleeping habits. Although he’d definitely been planning on taking a nap on this flight, he wasn’t expecting to sleep through the _entire_ trip home. 

The sound of the pilot announcing their landing over the speaker wakes him up. Disoriented, Oliver leans forward, blinking as he looks out the window to see Starling in view. Like a true billionaire’s son, he finds the best rest he’s had in weeks on that flight.

_Thank you, private jets._

As the plane climbs steadily downward, Oliver pulls out his phone, realizing that he hadn’t managed to keep his eyes open long enough to text Felicity back.

Oliver: _Just getting in. Only two more hours until I get to see you._

Felicity: _One hour and forty seven minutes until Doom Dinner, actually._

Oliver: _Do you think my family would notice if I pulled you up to my room for a while?_

Felicity: _Hmm...since they haven’t seen you in four months, I think they’d notice if you disappeared again._

Oliver: _I don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands off you all night when all I’ve been thinking about is having them on you again._

Felicity: _I think we’ll figure out a way to survive it._

Oliver: _You’re much stronger than me._

She doesn’t answer, and Oliver sets his phone in his lap while the plane lands. After getting his things together, he steps out into the private hangar and instantly frowns.

In his head, Oliver had been fully prepared to be bombarded by Tommy as soon as the doors of the jet opened up. He imagined that he wouldn’t have been able to put his first foot on land before Tommy assaulted him with a bear hug.

But his friend was nowhere in sight. 

“Shit,” Oliver huffs, moving towards the exit where the runway is, looking around for Tommy or his porsche. _If that asshole makes him late for this dinner..._

Taking out his phone, he gets ready to call Tommy, praying that the jerk is simply running late, but preparing to share some unfriendly words if he actually forgot about picking him up. And then, a flash of red catches Oliver’s attention, drawing his eyes to a tiny, familiar red mini cooper waiting outside the hangar.

From where she’s leaning on her car, Felicity raises a hand to wave, and Oliver freezes in his tracks. 

With her blonde hair blowing in the wind, catching the light of the setting sun, she looks like she just stepped out of one of his daydreams. She’s dressed casually in silk shorts with a colorful floral pattern and a plain white t-shirt that makes her look anything but plain. The glasses that are usually missing during their late night conversations are positioned perfectly on her gorgeous face. And then she smiles, wide and bright, as she walks towards him.

Oliver stares, enthralled, until Felicity Smoak is standing in front of him for the first time in four months. 

_It’s been way too long._

And it’s more than just the unexpectedness of seeing her. It’s more than just what happened on the yacht. Looking at her, finally face to face again, makes Oliver realize just how _much_ has changed between them since he’s been away. And then he blurts, “what are you doing here?”

Felicity raises her eyebrows, making a face at him. “Wow, that’s about as welcoming as you were at your going away party.”

Letting out a sharp breath, Oliver shakes his head. Instinctively, his hands twitch, his whole body leaning towards her, eager to touch her. And at first, he stops himself, biting back the instinct. But then he remembers that now...there’s nothing holding him back.

So Oliver closes the space between them in one sly step, his eyes trained on her face as his hands move over her hips and behind her back. Felicity’s eyes widen slightly, but it’s only a moment of surprise before she leans into him, her arms winding around his neck.

“Hi,” Oliver doesn’t bother trying to hide the content smile pulling at his lips. He leans closer, pressing his forehead against Felicity’s. “It is...really good to see you.”

“I kind of hijacked your reunion with Tommy.”

Oliver chuckles, “he can wait. This is so much better.”

Felicity’s fingers roam into his hair, her thumbs stroking his neck, making him realize how much he’s _ached_ to have this again. To remember what her hands on him feel like. He’s only gotten the smallest taste.

“I was just thinking that, um...it’d be nice if the first time we saw each other could just be you and me...without your whole family’s eyes on us. I hope that’s okay.”

As he moves his hand up her spine, Oliver notices the way Felicity shivers in response, just as she’d done the night on the yacht, and he makes a mental note to explore that some more. But for now, he takes her face between his hands, his nose rubbing against hers. “This is very _okay_ ,” Oliver whispers.

Felicity smiles, tilting her head up so her nose grazes his again. “Well, I can’t take all the credit… Tommy called me at the crack of dawn this morning. It was actually his idea.”

“Really?” Oliver asks, raising an eyebrow. “So he...knows?”

With a shrug, Felicity pulls back, grabbing his backpack off the ground and taking his hand instead. “I think he assumes... I didn’t ask too many questions.”

Despite the fact that neither of them have mentioned this _thing_ developing between them to anyone, Oliver can’t find it in himself to worry about Tommy. Even though subtlety and secrecy have never been Tommy Merlyn’s strong suits, Oliver just doesn’t care. His brain can’t think of much besides the fact that he has Felicity in his arms, and it’s just as mind blowing as that night on the yacht.

“Well, come on then,” Felicity giggles, bending down to grab his backpack for him. Oliver quickly takes her lead, picking up his suitcase as she steps away from him, leaving just her hand in his. “So, we have an hour to kill and then we can have your mom’s driver pick you up and take you home. I can meet you there. And we’ll be all set to re-reunite at dinner.” She flashes him a grin, twining her fingers through his as she speaks. As if the two of them holding hands is the most natural thing to her. “Piece of cake.”

His eyes stay down, looking at their locked hands. And he realizes that even though he’d never held her hand before, it was the most natural feeling to have her smooth skin on his. “Piece of cake,” he echoes softly.

Shooting him a strange look, Felicity walks slowly towards the car, dropping his hand once they reach it. “Just toss your stuff in the back.”

And then she gets behind the wheel, waiting until he is settled into the passenger seat before she starts the car and turns to him. “So, where to first? Milkshakes at Big Belly Burger? Or...irish coffees from Callum’s? I’m not sure which I’d miss more if I was away for four months.”

Oliver sighs, his eyes never leaving her face. He’d seen her almost every day for the past few weeks. He’d heard her voice. They’d spent all of that time growing closer. But clearly, video chats were a pale comparison to the real thing. Which reminded him… 

“First,” Oliver brushes his thumb over Felicity’s cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear as he waits for her to look at him. “I’ve been waiting to do this.” Taking her chin between his thumb and index finger, Oliver gently pulls her closer, letting them meet halfway.

He had only meant for it to be an innocent kiss.

He had only meant to linger, to remember how good it feels.

He had only meant to taste her, but it only takes a moment for a spark to catch.

Felicity kisses him back slowly at first, her mouth exploring. Then she moans, her lips parting for him...and it takes him right back to the night on the yacht. The noises she’d made, spurring him on as she rode his fingers. 

She pulls back, her breaths short as her lips move down his jaw to his neck. And his eyes roll back as her teeth graze his skin, her hand sliding lower and lower. “Felicity,” he grits, glancing out of the window at the pilot and flight attendant where they’re coming out from the hangar, talking as they walk to their cars.

“What?” She asks against his throat, her whispered breath on his neck making his cock twitch. A moment later, her hand grazes his lap, her nails scraping gently over his hardening length. He looks back at the staff, forcing himself to focus. When Felicity wraps her hand around him and tightens her grip, his vision darkens, his hips moving on their own accord to meet her hand, finding friction.

At the response, Felicity moans, starting to nip at his neck. Encouraged by it, she lets go of his cock and reaches for his zipper instead. Oliver’s breath catches in his throat, grabbing her hand to stop her. He keeps his eyes on the approaching people, and Felicity whimpers, picking her head up and following his gaze.

Oliver watches as the pilot and flight attendant walk closer, glancing over at them like he knew they would. With his fingers still clutching hers, he raises his free hand and waves, his expression neutral.

They each smile as they wave back, oblivious to the fact that Felicity is starting to rub slow circles against his aching head. Oliver’s grip tightens, stopping the movement. He holds Felicity’s hand in place, not letting her pull it away, not letting her pull his zipper down, either. And he watches the flight attendant and the pilot intently as they get into their cars to leave, feeling Felicity’s eyes on his face.

When the cars begin to pull away, Oliver finally looks down at her. “You trying to kill me?” He asks lowly, “because if you are—” 

Felicity cuts him off with a kiss. And this time when her fingers reach for his zipper, Oliver doesn’t stop her. She slowly leans closer, letting her lips touch his. But it’s not a kiss. When he moves to catch her bottom lip, she pulls back and gives him a crooked, teasing smile. Then she shoves her hand into his pants, gripping him in one rousing motion. Oliver gasps, his eyes trained on her lips as they fall open, her jaw lax, just as turned on as he is.

Felicity squeezes him tighter, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she breaks their eye contact to look down at what she’s doing. Oliver lets out a sharp breath, his eyes on her face. She pumps her hand, her thumb sliding up to spread his precum over his head.

She glances up at him beneath her lashes, and her eyes are darker. 

“I was thinking…” Felicity hums, staring back at him with her hand wrapped around his hardened length. “Of all the ways that I want to make you come, like you made me come that night on the yacht. Of all the ways I want to...return the favor.”

_It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen._

Felicity’s mouth finds his again. And her hand continues to stroke him. The combination of her tongue sliding against his, and her persistent fingers working his cock, is nearly too much. Felicity responds to his moans, kissing him harder, rubbing him faster as he urges her on. Her grip is almost painful when he begins to feel his release climbing closer and closer.

His innocent, sweet Felicity is anything but innocent or sweet at that moment. 

He’s an aching, throbbing mess that quickly spills all over her hands. And she’s sinful.

* * *

His eyes are on her lips. She can feel his gaze as she looks down at her drink, taking a sip through the oversized straw.

Felicity glances up. Oliver raises his eyebrows innocently, and she narrows her eyes at him. 

“Please?”

Giving him a smirk, Felicity shakes her head. “I told you to get a chocolate milkshake.”

“But I wanted vanilla,” Oliver frowns. “And it was great.”

She cocks her head to the side, “but now you want mine.”

Oliver leans forward, giving her a smile that she’s certain he’s used to charm many women before her.

_Don’t go there…_

“No,” Oliver lifts a shoulder. “I want a _sip_ of yours.”

Felicity sighs, playfully dramatic as she finally pushes her half-empty glass across the table. “ _One._ ”

He nods in agreement, and then proceeds to take a long pull of her milkshake. “Hey!” Felicity giggles, reaching for the glass, but Oliver lifts it out of reach. “I said one!”

“That was one,” Oliver teases, handing the drink back to her. 

Felicity pouts, shaking her head at him. “This is a betrayal, Oliver Queen. How am I supposed to trust you now?”

He grins, unconcerned. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’m sure you will…”

The look that passes between them heats, the tone of her voice like air fueling a flame. 

“So,” Oliver says slowly. “When was the first moment you realized you had feelings for me?”

Felicity coughs, surprise coloring her cheeks. “What?” She laughs. Oliver raises an eyebrow, only making her squirm even more under his scrutiny. 

“For me, it was the summer after your freshman year.” He says nonchalantly.

Her eyes go wide, too surprised by his admission to care that he reaches for her milkshake again, taking another sip. Questions circle Felicity’s mind, a long silence passing as she tries to find one to ask. Another breathless ‘what?’ ends up being the only thing she can voice.

As she gapes at him, Oliver looks up, putting his elbows on the table and leaning closer. Instinctively, Felicity leans closer, too. “You and Thea were sitting out by the pool. We’d just finished the school year,” he smiles, his eyes softening as if he’s remembering it. “You had on, um, this red bikini…”

Felicity scoffs, leveling him with a look. “This sounds more like the first time you realized I had boobs.”

At that, Oliver’s smile ticks up a notch. He shrugs, “to be fair, I noticed that you had a nice ass, too. Still do.”

“Oliver!” Felicity gasps, reaching across the table to shove his shoulder. And take her milkshake back.

He doesn’t budge, grabbing her hand from her shoulder instead. His fingers lace through hers. “It was more than that,” Oliver whispers, glancing down at their hands as his thumb gently strokes her palm.

For some reason, she had worried that this might be awkward. The two of them. Actually doing this. But the night on the yacht had felt like it was a long time coming. And seeing him again at the airport had been...perfect.

And now, holding Oliver Queen’s hand in the middle of Big Belly Burger as if they were a couple, or as if this was a date...it felt natural. 

Real.

“I had just graduated. I was outside, teasing Thea about one thing or another, and probably attempting to flirt with you but I doubt that you even noticed,”

Felicity holds her breath, remembering that day as he tells the story. 

“Tommy came over,” he continues, his voice low, eyes still focused on his thumb as he strokes her wrist. “I think he was a little jealous that I was going off to college because his dad was making him stay and intern at Merlyn Global. So...he was giving me a hard time about it. Joking that I’d get kicked out within weeks, something like that…”

Felicity releases a sharp breath, knowing how the story ends. “I pushed him in the pool.” She starts to squirm again, recalling how upset she’d been that Tommy would taunt his best friend like that. And how angry she’d been to see doubt color Oliver’s face, believing Tommy’s words.

“You did,” he chuckles, meeting her eyes again. “But it was actually what you said to him after that made me realize I had feelings for you. Feelings that were deeper than the fact that you had an amazing ass.” He grins, _“still do.”_

Felicity blushes again, glancing away until Oliver squeezes her hand, getting her attention back. “You told Tommy that I would be fine. That I was going to do great things at school. And then you told him to go to hell.” His eyes stay locked on hers. “That was the first time that I realized I wanted to be _that_ guy.”

Felicity’s eyebrows furrow, “what guy?”

“Whatever guy it was that you saw in me,” he answers, voice quiet, more unsure than he’d seemed all day. “And once I realized that, it was kind of hard not to realize how I felt about you.”

It’s the uncertainty on his face that makes Felicity lean across the table. The vulnerability in his eyes that makes her cup his chin in her hand. The _sweetness_ in his honesty that makes her suddenly need to kiss him.

So she does, because she can.

“Well,” Oliver mumbles against her mouth. “What was it for you?”

Felicity pulls back, pinching her lips together as she looks at him skeptically. “I liked you right away,” she admits shyly. “It was practically at first sight. Come on...you must have known that.”

He doesn’t look away, his eyes raking over her face, taking in the blush on her cheeks. “It was just a crush, though...all of Thea’s friends had crushes.” Felicity rolls her eyes, kicking him under the table even though she knows it’s true. And she knows what he means, too. _When did it become more than a crush?_

Oliver stares back at her, intent on an answer. “There must have been a point, you know, that you actually liked me for _me_ …”

Sighing, Felicity considers the question. In truth, she had never really thought about it. He was right. She’d had a crush on him since the day Thea Queen invited her over and she met her insanely cute older brother. 

From there, the crush just kept getting bigger and bigger. Every time she slept over. Every time Oliver gave her attention; talking to her about one thing or another, asking about school or her mom. She always loved the way he looked at her, how he truly paid attention to her answers. Felicity never felt like he was just asking to be polite. It always felt like he really cared to know what was going on in her life. The way she felt about him had morphed slowly over time, deepened into something more. 

_But when did she notice? When did she realize that it was more than an innocent crush on her best friend’s older brother?_

“The night you gave me the Hozen,” Felicity answers. It was only a few weeks before that day by the pool. On prom night, actually. In her mind, it was the point when things changed between them, shifting out of that familiar, platonic territory that she always assumed he kept her in. “At least, that was the first time that I thought, maybe, you didn’t just see me as another little sister you never asked for.”

“I remember you in that dress,” Oliver whispers back. “Trust me, I didn’t see you that way. Thea helped you get ready and you looked...perfect. I remember thinking that I wished I was the one taking you to prom.”

He shrugs as if it’s not a big deal, but Felicity feels her heart flip in her chest. She’s pretty sure she would’ve died on the spot had he told her this back then. “Well,” Felicity puts a smile on her face, shaking off the feeling, the embarrassment that she still associates with that night, even if Oliver had made everything worthwhile by the end of it. “I’m glad that at least someone ended up appreciating the dress.”

Oliver’s eyes narrow, his hand clenching into a fist before he glances away. And Felicity clocks the tension instantly. “Baril never deserved you.”

“Oliver,” she shakes her head, laughing under her breath. “It was eight years ago. I’m over it.”

He glances back at her, the look in his eyes making it clear that he wasn’t quite as over it as she was. 

Well, to be fair, she’d had no choice but to get over it. 

As a freshman, she’d been over the moon excited when a senior asked her to prom. And then crushed when he stood her up. Because unfortunately, Isaiah Baril had gone to a party beforehand, gotten way too drunk, and never made it to her house to pick her up. Her embarrassment the following Monday had been the only reason she wanted to let the whole thing go. Isaiah never tried to talk to her again, and she was fine with that. “Besides,” Felicity shrugs, “he blacked out and tripped on pavement that night. The damage to his face was karma enough.”

Oliver bites his lip, not meeting her eyes. And apparently, it’s his turn to squirm. “What?” Felicity asks, confused by his obvious discomfort.

“Uh...it wasn’t a curb that screwed up Baril’s face.”

She blinks, his words clicking into place with her memories from that night like a puzzle.

It wasn’t what Isaiah did that Felicity remembered most about her first and only prom night. It was the moment she’d shared with Oliver that had a tendency to replay in her mind over and over, even eight years later. 

Once she had realized that her date wasn’t going to show up, she’d gone back to Thea’s. And she’d been waiting there for her friend; ready to cry, to vent, to come up with a revenge plot that they’d never really follow through on but that would make her feel better anyway. But Thea had gone to an afterparty, and Oliver had found her waiting on their front steps instead.

For some reason, even though she’d been mortified to admit it to him, she told Oliver everything. How she’d been waiting at home for almost two hours for Isaiah to pick her up. How she’d been texting and calling him without a single response. How upset she was that her night was ruined. How she felt so stupid for thinking that a senior actually wanted to take her, an invisible freshman, to prom. How she should have known that it was too good to be true. 

She cried in front of him. She complained. And she let all of her emotions out without any shame, as open and as vulnerable as she would be with Thea.

And when she was done, Oliver had taken the Hozen out of his pocket and handed it to her. He told her that it was something that always made him feel strong, and that he wanted her to keep it. Oliver looked her in the eyes and told her that she deserved better. Then he’d left her with the very Oliver Queen advice of _‘give that asshole hell on Monday, Felicity_ ’ and he’d left.

She had always assumed that it was just a moment.

Just a fleeting moment of vulnerability on her part and pity on his.

Something for her to hold on to.

“You did that?” Felicity gasps. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Oliver makes a face, looking a little embarrassed. “Baril went around telling everyone he fell, and you were satisfied with that...I didn’t want it to cause even more drama for you. And...I thought you would have told me I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why did you?”

Oliver sighs, bringing both of his hands on top of the table, wringing them together before finally deciding to reach for hers. His pinkie touches the back of her hand, his eyes downcast. She turns her hand over, offering her palm. “At first I thought it was just because I wanted to protect you. Defend you. I think at that moment, I wanted Baril and every guy at that school to know...if they hurt you, they’d have to deal with _me_. Honestly, I wasn’t ready to acknowledge my feelings for you, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t know how much I cared about you, Felicity.”

Her heart does another flip, like a piece of it might jump right out of her chest for him to take. But it’s more than a crush. Deeper than the puppy love she was familiar with when it came to Oliver Queen. This time, she knows that he feels the same way. Now, it feels like he’s taking root, making a place for himself in her heart without even trying.

And she is happy to let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think :)


	3. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How is it even possible?
> 
> How can he bring her body to life in a way that feels foreign to her, yet completely safe at the same time?
> 
> It doesn’t seem fair that this has been right in front of them, all this time, and they’re only just beginning to discover it.

Oliver had changed into a blue button down shirt before Felicity arrived at the Queen residence. It’d only been a mere twenty minutes after a driver picked him up from Big Belly Burger. But he looked like he had freshened up.

She isn’t quite sure how she’s supposed to survive this dinner. Although it would be ten times worse if she hadn’t picked Oliver up from the airport and gotten to spend some time with him. On the other hand, it was very hard to sit across the table, looking at him, remembering that not even an hour ago, her hand had been wrapped around his length, stroking him, watching his mouth fall open on a silent cry of pleasure. The way he had moaned, her name just a whimper in his throat. How he had given her full control, full trust, coming apart around, and all over, her fingers. 

Their moment in her car had been hot as hell. And Felicity was having a hard time _not_ thinking about the next time it could happen.

The blue of his shirt really brings out his eyes. Eyes that are darkening by the moment as he keeps them locked on her from over the salad bowl. He slowly lowers his fork, raising an eyebrow at her as if he knows exactly what she’s thinking about.

Felicity had practically grown up sitting at this table, almost every Sunday night since she was eleven until she went off to college. And whenever she was home, the tradition stayed the same. She and Thea left Starling in opposite directions when they picked their schools. Four years ago, it had felt like the end of the word, leaving her best friend, not spending every day together like they’d been so used to doing. They were both a few hours from home, which made visiting each other a bit of a trip, but meeting at home, in the middle, wasn’t so bad. After a few months at their own schools, she and Thea had found a new groove, a new layer of their friendship. Phone calls almost every night, constantly filling each other in on their campus lives through text, planning their weekends around whenever they’d both be able to make it home so they could see each other.

And those weekends always consisted of a Sunday night dinner at the mansion before they parted ways again.

It had been the new norm for the last four years, up until Oliver decided to move to Russia and change the whole routine again.

Considering he was her best friend’s brother, Felicity never really wanted to admit how much it hurt not to see him sitting across from her for the last few months. She and Thea returned home at least once or twice a month, as long as they weren’t too busy with school. And every time, it crushed her to sit down for these meals and not see that charming smile staring back at her.

And then when she and Oliver had started talking on the phone every night while he was still away, the dinners had become something completely different than ever before. Felicity had felt an uncomfortable sense of pressure, listening to Moira and Robert wonder how their son was doing in Russia.

_Oh, he called last week._

_I think he’s enjoying himself._

_Sales have increased steadily in the last two months. I’m honestly quite impressed._

_Oh, Robert, you always underestimated him._

And his parents had no idea that Felicity could probably tell them more about Oliver lately than either of them.

It was a secret. And being with his family had made her feel as if it was all on her shoulders. Oliver was halfway across the world. _He_ wasn’t the one who had to look them in the eye, ask them to pass the salt, and bite his tongue to keep from telling them how things between the two of them were _changing._

She’d been facing the lie of their budding romance on her own. But at that point, all she really had to do was keep her mouth shut and focus on her food when the topic of Oliver was brought up.

Now, though...the _topic_ is sitting straight ahead. And he’s been staring at her for way too long. Throwing her foot out, Felicity kicks Oliver in the shin, making him choke on his sip of water.

He coughs, setting his drink down and patting his chest. 

_Take that, you handsome, distracting jerk._

His mother frowns, pausing from whatever conversation she’d been having with Thea that Felicity wasn’t paying the slightest attention to. “Are you all right, sweetheart?” Moira asks, leaning towards Oliver, concerned.

He lifts a hand and nods, pulling himself together. And Felicity pinches her lips to keep from smiling, smug as she watches his cheeks turn red. Her foot is still lingering near his calf, absently rubbing up and down in a halfhearted apology. 

The moment Oliver composes himself, he drops his hand, his fingers encompassing her ankle and rearing her leg upwards.

Felicity sucks in a breath of surprise, grabbing her chair to keep from falling right off it. She glances down the table, glad to see that Moira and Thea are still apparently gushing over some baby pictures that one of Moira’s friends had sent earlier, Moira shaking her head at the idea of having grandchildren. And on the other side of the table, Robert is still distracted by his phone, barely looking up from it long enough to take a bite of his dinner.

Her eyes dart back to Oliver, trying to pull her foot away but he tightens his grip, giving his head a small shake.

_This. Handsome. Jerk._

_Let go,_ Felicity mouths, narrowing her eyes at him, and Oliver grins. Rather than listening, he slides his thumb along the strap of her high heel, toying with the clasp as if he might unhook it, letting her shoe fall to the floor...and Felicity holds her breath, surprised by how much she suddenly wants him to do exactly that. How good it would feel if he pressed his long fingers against the sole of her foot, how slowly he would caress her skin, bringing his warm touch up past the inside of her leg, trailing higher and higher…

“Felicity, come look,” Thea’s sudden attention startles her, her wide eyes swinging to her friend. 

And Oliver is just as caught, dropping her foot and leaning back in his chair. But still, his family doesn’t seem to notice. Thea points down at the phone in front of them, giggling as she says, “these twins are adorable, but they’ll probably make you never want to have children.”

Standing up, Felicity smiles as she rounds the table, leaning over Moira’s shoulder to see. She chuckles at the picture of the identical babies; one of them grinning widely as he grabs his brother’s cheek, and the other looking as though he’s screaming at the top of his lungs while his face gets yanked on.

Purposely not looking at Oliver, Felicity focuses on the Queen women; asking the names of the twins, _Jacob and Jordan,_ and how they know them, _oh Felicity, you know, Susan that serves on the board with me, these are her daughter Laura’s sons! Their father John made that generous donation at the fundraiser last month..._

Of course, Felicity has no idea who the people are. She doesn’t doubt that she’s met them before, after attending her fair share of fundraisers if Thea begged her long enough to tag along. But it isn’t her concern to keep up with the Queen’s network of friends. She’s never felt the pressure that she knows Thea and Oliver have lived with; forced chit-chat and fake smiles because you never knew which one of Starling’s elite might pay you a favor someday.

It only took a handful of parties like that for Felicity to realize her place in their world, too. At first, when she was young, she’d done her best to remember anything and everything that Thea whispered in her ear during those events. Who had sons or daughters that went to school with them, which of the beautiful women was jealous of another, which stuffy, gray haired men were cheating on their wives. But after a few appearances, she noticed that the same people would introduce themselves to her with false sweetness, forgetting her easily, so Felicity just started to do the same. 

She would always love the Queens, but she was not a Queen.

Moira’s smile is warm as she browses the pictures, “you know, Thea, you can settle down anytime you want.”

“Mom,” Thea groans, “I’m only twenty three! I haven’t even graduated yet!”

Felicity laughs, familiar with this argument, prepared for Moira’s response of, “I was twenty one when I had your brother.” 

Taking Thea’s hand, Felicity pulls her friend back towards their chairs, knowing that Thea would _never_ settle down just for the sake of settling down. And Moira probably knows it too, but she’ll still continue to push the subject. 

“Yeah,” Thea grumbles, rolling her eyes as she plops back down in her chair. “Why don’t you ever pester _him_ about getting married and having babies then?”

“Oh, honey,” Moira shakes her head, “your brother is far too busy to be worrying about that right now.”

Oliver looks at his sister, offering an innocent shrug when she glares at him. Thea folds her hands together, turning back to Moira, “you know, mom, have you ever thought that your opinion on this topic is just a little bit sexist? Oliver is ‘too busy’ to settle down, but you want me to do exactly that before I’m even out of college?”

Moira instantly smirks as she answers, “don’t be silly, sweetheart. It’s just the opposite. I want you to settle down _and_ be successful in your career.” She winks at her daughter, “we both know certain men can’t handle both. They just don’t have the brain capacity or motivation.”

And by certain men, she clearly meant _Oliver._

Felicity snorts as Thea’s face breaks out with a wide grin, and Moira looks down innocently at her plate. It takes Oliver a moment longer to pick up on it, his fork freezing as he went to take a bite of his steak. “Hey!” He frowns at his mom.

“Darling,” Moira chuckles, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand, “I’m just teasing. If you think you’re ready to find a wife, I’d be more than happy to—”

“No, no,” Oliver huffs, cutting her off. “I’m all set. Thanks though,” he pats her hand.

And Moira sighs dramatically, “two beautiful children and I probably won’t see a grandchild before I’m fifty. I’ll be old and senile before I get to spoil a little baby like Susan is doing with those twins right now. So lucky...”

Grinning, Thea rolls her eyes at her mother. “Is that supposed to be a guilt trip?”

“Is it working?” Moira snarks right back, scrunching her nose at her daughter. 

Thea shakes her head, “absolutely not!”

With a huff of disappointment, Moira slumps in her chair. But just as quickly, she perks back up and tips her head towards Felicity, “you know dear, I’ve always considered you like another daughter to me—” 

The laughter that Oliver, Thea, and Felicity burst into drowned out the Queen matriarch’s words. She blinks at them, holding her hands up innocently while she tries not to smile. “I was just saying!”

It wasn’t often that they caught Moira Queen in a mood like this, no doubt the result of having both of her children under the same roof again. And Felicity couldn’t help but feel a warm, nostalgic wave wash over her at the thought. 

The mansion was large and extravagant, but Felicity had become comfortable, familiar with its walls just like she’d grown to know and love Starling City itself. The two went hand in hand, since it had been her first day at a brand new school in a brand new city when Thea Queen insisted that they be friends. 

After her father’s disappearance and their move across the country, Felicity made a home in Starling. And she made a home with the Queens.

Watching as Oliver laughed with his mother, as Thea stuck her tongue out at both of them, Felicity was reminded of everything this family has come to mean to her.

Her eyes flicker to Oliver.

And now...she might be throwing all of it away. For whatever was happening between her and Oliver. For something that she couldn’t even _define..._ that was happening between her and Oliver. Would Moira ever look at her the same way? Like another daughter to her? Would she still be the only person Robert trusted to call when his computers at Queen Consolidated were acting up? Would his parents even _want_ their son to be with someone like her?

She certainly didn’t have anything in common with the gorgeous, leggy, sophisticated and successful women that Moira was always trying to introduce him to at events, hoping he’d take a liking to one of them. Felicity also didn’t see similarities between herself and other girls that Oliver had dated before. So if she didn’t see herself in his future or in his past, then what were they even _doing_ right now?

And then there was Thea. The best friend she had ever had. Who would surely be _livid_ if she found out that Felicity was even considering a romance, of any kind, with her brother. 

It would change everything...

“Damn it!” Robert slams his fist on the table, causing Felicity to yelp, her fork falling from her hand and crashing onto her plate. She looks up at the older man, his expression furious as he mutters another curse under his breath. The rest of the Queens are much more familiar with Robert’s outbursts, each of them freezing, but not offering any more of a reaction. She’s only seen Robert raise his voice a few times in her life, but Felicity knew from Thea that he spent a lot of time yelling on the phone, apparently just not when he knew there was company over at the house.

“Robert, what is it?” Moira asks, her voice calm and smooth, but her eyes tell a different story. 

From the other side of the table, Robert stands up, ignoring his wife’s question. “I need to go make a call. Finish without me,” he mumbles, not meeting any of their eyes. “This is going to be a while.”

Felicity glances across the table at Oliver, but his eyes are trained on his father. “Dad,” he says hesitantly, “what’s going on?”

Almost to the doorway, Robert stops, his shoulders tensing as he turns back to look at his son. “I have to go get on a conference call with Isabel and Mr. Rowe, Oliver. He’s considering backing out of his investment in the Moscow project.”

At first, Oliver blinks in confusion, but then his face falls. “I just met with him on Thursday. He was happy with the deal.”

“Yes,” Robert grits his teeth. “But that was before you told him you would send him the results of our similar project in Madrid by Friday and you never sent them.”

Oliver huffs, his face paling. “It—it slipped my mind, dad. But it was a done deal! I left a contract at his office, he was ready to sign.”

“But he didn’t sign, Oliver! Richard Rowe is a paranoid bastard and since _you_ didn’t send over the reports, now he’s concerned that we’re hiding something from him!”

Sitting at that table quickly dives from amicable conversation to uncomfortable silence. The tension in the room is thick, and Felicity can’t take her eyes off of Oliver. Her stomach is in knots _for_ him. Not just because she can tell that he’s upset, but because she’d known for weeks how important that deal was to him. He’d called her after his meeting with Mr. Rowe, his voice animated as he told her about it. 

It’d been weeks of back and forth with the man, but Oliver had finally convinced him to work with QC. No one else had been able to do it. But Oliver did his research, he put the _work_ in, not just smoke and mirrors. And he went to his meeting with Richard Rowe fully prepared. Which resulted in Oliver closing the deal on his first partnership for the company.

And then later that night he’d called Felicity and told her, his voice just a whisper, that he was proud of himself.

From across the table, Oliver’s eyes land on Felicity, and her heart instantly sinks, seeing the disappointment in his eyes. And she knows that he’s kicking himself for this, because his father is kicking him for it. And it really, really isn’t fair.

Although she hates the fact that Oliver has been so far away, she’s been nothing but proud of him, too. The changes in him are already fascinating to see. From talking to him, Felicity knows how much Oliver cares about his family’s company, how much he wants to succeed and show everyone, especially Robert, that he deserves the position for more than just his last name.

“Dad…” Oliver breathes, staring down at his hands, looking more like a scolded child than an adult who oversees an entire branch in a foreign city. “I’m sorry. I forgot to get back to Mr. Rowe with the reports.” 

His dad laughs, but there’s no real humor in it, which kind of makes Felicity want to punch the harsh old man in the throat. _Not the first time that thought has crossed her mind._ But the desire is stronger this time.

“Don’t worry about it, son. I’m used to cleaning up your messes by now, aren’t I?”

Oliver sinks in his chair, defeated. And Felicity’s chest tightens a little bit more, absolutely _hating_ the look of shame on his face. 

She’s always known him to be confident, verging on the line of cocky most of the time. But Oliver looks more unsure of himself than she’d seen him in a while.

“I can call Mr. Rowe,” he mumbles, his voice quiet, unable to meet his father’s stare. Like he already knows what the answer will be. “I can talk to him, assure him that it was a simple mistake. I can have Curtis send the reports first thing tomorrow morning.”

Robert waves his hand dismissively, not even listening, and making Felicity’s blood boil. “You’ve done enough, Oliver. But from now on, if you want to work for this company, for me...when you say you’re going to do something, you better damn well do it. Understood?”

Pinching his lips together, Oliver nods once. 

And then Robert leaves the room without sparing his son another glance. They listen with an awkward quietness hanging over them until they hear Robert’s office door slam shut from down the hall. 

_Good riddance. He’s the one who could use a time out, anyway._

Felicity stares up at Oliver, wishing she could think of something to say to make him feel better. His cheeks are red and he doesn’t look up, but she’s not sure if it’s anger rolling off of him, or embarrassment. 

“Sweetheart…” Moira finally breaks the stiff silence in the room. But as soon as she speaks, Oliver is moving. He heads for the door, still not looking at any of them. “Oliver, where are you going?”

“To call Curtis,” he grumbles back as he passes. 

And to brood. 

Felicity knows him. There will definitely be plenty of brooding going on for the rest of the night. She sighs, admitting to herself, with a touch of guilt, that she feels relieved now that Robert and Oliver are gone. 

Moira doesn’t look any less tense though, and it does make Felicity feel bad that Oliver’s ‘welcome home dinner’ had been ruined. Not that that was anyone’s fault besides Robert Queen’s though. 

Sure, Oliver had made a mistake.

But Robert has always been far too hard on his son, in her opinion. The man had never really been around to teach, or god forbid, _bond_ with his children...and yet he never seems to hesitate when it comes to expressing his disappointment.

Felicity had lived the first seven years of her life with an absent, unreliable father, but hers had never been _cruel_. It was something that she and Thea had discussed at length, time and time again. And even though Felicity’s dad had disappeared without so much as a goodbye, she would still rather keep him as a father than trade for one like Robert Queen.

“Well,” Thea sighs, picking up her wine glass and taking a long pull. “This feels like a perfect girls night. Come on Felicity, let’s hang out for a bit. I’ll paint your nails.”

Which translated to _‘please don’t leave yet, I don’t feel like being alone’_ in Thea-language.

Felicity’s fingers itch to grab her phone from her purse and text him. It was simple concern for her friend, that was all. The argument with his father had clearly upset Oliver, and Felicity just wanted to make sure he was okay. Should she? Would he want her to?

Felicity bites her lip, weighing her options because she feels...like she has to do _something._ No matter how things turn out between her and Oliver, she knows that he doesn’t deserve to lose this deal because of one silly, forgotten email.

“Hey,” she leans towards Thea, “I think I have an idea. I need your laptop.”

Thea raises an eyebrow, tipping her head curiously. “Mom,” she shrugs, “thanks for dinner. Felicity and I will be upstairs.”

Hopping up from her seat, Thea grabs Felicity’s hand, dragging her out of the dining room and up to her bedroom. As soon as they get inside, Felicity plops down onto Thea’s bed, reaching for her computer to work her magic. And Thea wanders into the closet, returning a moment later with her bin of nail polish.

Despite the strange circumstances of what Felicity is doing, the night feels somewhat normal. With Thea spread out on the floor, painting her own fingernails a shade of blue, and Felicity typing away. And just like any other night, Thea lets her work without bothering to ask questions, the two falling into a comfortable silence. Only tonight, she’s not working on a complicated code, she’s hacking the email of a Russian business owner. 

It takes her twenty minutes, but when she’s done, Felicity stands up, closing the laptop and heading for the door. Thea pushes up from her stomach, frowning as she follows after her. “What are you doing?” Her friend asks.

Felicity waves the laptop, grinning at Thea when they reach Oliver’s door. “Helping your brother,” she shrugs innocently before knocking.

He doesn’t answer right away, probably resigned to brood and ignore everyone for the rest of the night. So Felicity rolls her eyes and knocks again. Louder this time. She hears him sigh, his footsteps crossing the room, and then the door opens. At first, Oliver looks irritated, a frown in place and his expression telling her that he’s ready to tell her to go away. 

But then he realizes that it’s _her_ at his door, and that Thea is lingering to the right. He gapes at them for a moment before sighing. “Whatever it is that you think will cheer me up...no thank you.” He frowns, finishing in a grumble, “Curtis says Mr. Rowe’s office won’t even take his calls.”

“Well,” Felicity raises an eyebrow, “you better give him a call yourself then. Tell him that he made a mistake.”

Oliver shakes his head, his eyes flickering to Thea. He looks like he wants to say something, but not in front of his sister. “I messed up, Felicity,” he mumbles, his voice low as he looks down at his feet.

In response, Felicity shrugs. “I know, and I know that no one is going to be harder on you about that than _you._ It was a simple mistake, Oliver. So...I uh, I helped.”

Thea instantly starts to chuckle, because even though Felicity never told her what she’d done, her best friend is fully aware of what she’s _capable_ of doing. Oliver’s eyebrows push together in confusion. “What do you mean...you ‘helped?’”

“Call Mr. Rowe,” Felicity smirks. “Tell him that you sent the email with the reports to him on Friday. Just like you said you would.”

“But I—”

“Maybe it ended up in his spam mail,” Felicity interrupted, giving Oliver an innocent shrug. “Actually, I can guarantee that it ended up in his spam mail. Happens all the time. People always forget to check that junk. Common mistake. Anyway, he’ll find the reports sent from one Oliver Jonas Queen on Friday afternoon. He’ll probably feel pretty silly for causing all this fuss over nothing.”

Oliver stares at her for a long moment. “Felicity…”

“What?” She winks, raising her shoulders. When he continues to stare, Felicity laughs. The desire to kiss the expression off his face is strong. To kiss his adorable, gaping mouth. But with Thea hovering over her shoulder, she’s obviously not going to do that. She settles for shoving his shoulder instead. “Go,” Felicity insists, waving her hand at him.

“Felicity,” Oliver huffs. “I can’t. This was _my_ mistake...you can’t just,” he shakes his head, “make it go away for me.”

Straightening her shoulders, she looks up at him. “I already did. Because it’s _silly_ , Oliver. You forgot to send an email. Come on...you shouldn’t lose out on this deal over something so small. I know how hard you—” she stops herself, pinching her lips together. “Just call him. Please?”

With a sigh, Oliver steps back, moving to his bed to pick up his phone. His eyes shift back to her as he dials, lifting the phone to his ear. “Samara,” he answers, his voice chipper. “It’s Oliver Queen. Could you transfer me to Mr. Rowe’s office, please?” He turns away, starting to pace across his room as he listens to the response on the other end. “Oh, I know he’s on a conference call with my father. That’s actually what I was hoping to speak with him about…” Oliver hesitates again, gritting his teeth as if he’s getting more excuses. “Okay Samara, I understand. Do you think you could do me a favor then?” His voice is full of charm, that natural flirtation that he’s always used to get his way. “Give Mr. Rowe a message for me. Ask him to check his spam folder, he has one from me that was sent around…” Oliver looks to Felicity again, and she holds up three fingers. “3:00 o’clock. I think he’ll find what he’s looking for, and he’ll see that this was all a misunderstanding. I wouldn’t want him to waste his time trying to find a new company to partner with on this project over nothing.”

Another pause, and then Oliver’s face flashes with a smile. “No, Samara...that will be all. Thank you.”

As soon as Oliver hangs up, he tosses his phone onto his bed and sinks onto his chair. Felicity hesitates in the doorway, watching as he scrubs his hand over his chin and closes his eyes. “I hope that works.”

“It will,” she answers, offering him an assuring smile.

His eyes flicker up to her, and he sighs. “Thank you, Felicity…”

She lifts a shoulder, shaking her head as if it wasn’t a big deal. And it wasn’t. The hack was rather easy, actually. 

“Well then,” Thea sings, “it sounds like calls for celebration!”

Oliver groans, narrowing his eyes at his sister, “not quite. Samara still has to get the note to Mr. Rowe. And he has to believe that it was his mistake,” Oliver flinches, “this is all kinds of unethical.”

“One time thing,” Felicity swears, putting a hand on her heart. “I promise.”

He tips his head back, resting it on the back of his chair and looking up at the ceiling. “You guys go ahead,” Oliver mumbles. “I’m not in much of a celebrating mood.”

In Oliver-language, that means _leave me alone to mope._

Even if Richard Rowe believes the whole email-fiasco to be a simple misunderstanding, and even if he still wants to sign a contract with QC, and even if everything works out...Oliver is still going to be unfairly hard on himself. His dad’s words would continue to bother him. Felicity knows the pattern, and she’s always hated it. But she hates it now more than ever.

Thea and Felicity share a look. 

“Okay, Ollie,” Thea sighs, “suit yourself.” She starts to walk away, mumbling something to Felicity about opening a bottle of wine and watching a movie. 

Felicity half listens as she follows her friend, sparing one more glance in Oliver’s direction, but he doesn’t meet her eyes.

She also doesn’t hear from him for the rest of the night.

* * *

Maybe it’s a stupid idea... 

He clearly doesn’t want to talk, considering he hasn’t spoken to her since she left his room the night before.

Felicity hesitates at the front door of the Queen mansion, her hand on the doorknob, rethinking her plan to let herself in and...and what? Fix their family drama? She wasn’t quite sure what she planned on doing, but she’d come prepared. Her other hand held a bag full of bagels from their favorite bakery, which had worked as a peace offering amongst the Queen family once or twice before. But Felicity fought herself as she stood outside, suddenly feeling silly that she thought some fresh bagels could smooth things over between Oliver and Robert. Or Oliver and her. 

She still isn’t quite sure if he’s upset with her or not, which led to the bagel idea, but now she’s second guessing herself. 

The front door swings open suddenly, before Felicity has a chance to make up her mind, and she yelps in surprise. Instinctively, she shoves her arm behind her back, hiding the bag.

In front of her, Oliver startles, his hand dropping from his ear where he’d been trying to put a headphone in. “Oh!” His eyes widen, “Felicity.”

“Hey,” she breathes, her heart racing as if she’d been caught trying to break into their house, rather than bring breakfast. He’s wearing shorts and a t-shirt from one of his former colleges. His hair is still mussed on one side, the bags under his eyes letting her know that he didn’t sleep very well. “How’d it go with Mr. Rowe?”

Oliver blinks, like his brain needs a moment to catch up with her words. “Good, actually,” he nods. “His assistant gave him the message and he ended up calling me to apologize. He signed the contract and faxed it last night. Curtis is processing it this morning.”

“That's—” Felicity smiles, letting out a short breath. “That’s great, Oliver. I’m glad it all worked out.”

She’s not sure why it feels so awkward between them. But she wants to turn over a new leaf when it comes to Oliver Queen. And when it comes to herself, honestly. She’s tired of always biting her tongue. Being afraid. She and Oliver had taken a step...into _something_ , and maybe they need to accept that there’s no going back.

On the phone, things between them had felt so simple. Easy.

But now that they’re both home again, it is anything but simple or easy. They don’t get to pick up the phone and call, talk for hours about anything. Whatever strange space they’d created for each other, from separate countries, doesn’t exist here. Here, there are lines. It’s different...but they can’t just take back what happened between them on the yacht, or anything that followed. They can’t pretend that they haven’t already crossed those lines. There’s no _undoing_ her feelings for Oliver. She’s _in_ this with him. And Felicity has no desire to back out now.

“Did I do something wrong?” She blurts, “last night...with the email and the hacking...what I did...are you angry with me?”

Oliver’s eyebrows furrow, and he quickly shakes his head. “What? No. No, Felicity. I’m not angry with you. Not at all.”

Felicity shifts on her feet, refusing to break their gaze even though her habit is always to look away whenever he looks at her like this. “Then is there a reason you didn’t text me?” Despite her best efforts, she’s still Felicity Smoak, and she can’t stop herself from babbling. “Because we’ve been... _talking_ for a couple of months now and you usually at least text me to say goodnight. I mean, even when you’re busy and you can’t call, you always send a ‘sweet dreams, Felicity’ text or something. It just felt like, like, I don’t know, that you were upset about what I did or…” _Or that you were having doubts about us._

Staring back at her, Oliver shakes his head. “Felicity...whatever is going on up here,” he waves his hand around his own head. “It's about my dad. And work. And my own stupid brooding. It has nothing to do with you. I promise.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

Oliver smiles, soft and warm, as he leans closer. “I’m sorry that I didn’t text you...but I _do_ hope that you had sweet dreams.”

Felicity lets out a breath, a nervous giggle bubbling from her lips as his face hovers close to hers. Those intense blue eyes are completely focused on her, and her heart skips a beat. It’s the same look he’s given her a hundred times in the last two months. And yet it is much, much more real when she has the option of grabbing his face and kissing him. 

_Oh god, what’s stopping her?_

“I, um,” Felicity swallows, her eyes flickering down to his mouth. “I did. Thank you.”

His lips twitch, his smile spreading across his face as he steps closer. “Come inside, Felicity.”

“No, uh,” she struggles to think of anything besides his piercing blue gaze. But it’s all that she sees. And he’s looking at her like he could swallow her whole. “I should go.”

Oliver’s eyes travel down her body, and she holds her breath as he slowly takes her in, from her head to her toes and back up again. _Devouring._

Any boldness she’d felt on the drive over, or in her car at the airport, or back on the yacht, is _gone_ at this moment. Oliver holds all of her willpower in his hands, and Felicity can’t help but notice it. If he wanted to pull her inside and screw her right against the front door, not caring if anyone sees, she would probably let him.

She’d do anything to keep those gorgeous blue eyes focused on her.

And the thought makes her shiver.

“You just got here,” Oliver murmurs, moving impossibly, _dangerously_ closer. Close enough to kiss. And Felicity has the urge to push him away and pull him closer at the same time, which ends up just leaving her standing there, her mouth hanging open.

The fear of getting caught is fleeting, because a moment later, he leans back, letting her off the hook as he crosses his arms in front of his chest, watching her in amusement.

“Oh,” Felicity swallows, looking down her feet, just to get a break from the heat in his eyes. “Right, well, I came over….because I thought I left something here last night but then I realized I didn’t, so I um, I was just leaving.”

His finger slips beneath her chin, gently tipping her face up until she’s looking into his eyes again. “Then what’s behind your back?”

Felicity gapes at him, her eyes going wide. “Noth—nothing.”

“Fe-li-ci-ty,” he hums. He quickly reaches behind her back to grab the bag, and Felicity is helpless to stop him because in the process, he leans close enough for his lips to graze against hers. And she is thoroughly distracted.

Oliver pulls back, dropping a quick kiss to her cheek as he retreats. And Felicity sighs, watching as he opens the bag, taking a peek inside. He glances up at her with a small grin. “Did you bring peace offering bagels?”

“Well,” she feels her cheeks flaming with a blush. “Not if your whole family is going to know that they’re peace offering bagels.” She reaches for the bag, but Oliver lifts it over his head. 

The blush on her face reaches her ears when Oliver flashes her a smile, still holding the bag too high for her to reach. “Did you get any cinnamon ones?”

_Did she get any cinnamon ones?_

_Psht._

Felicity narrows her eyes, “Of course. Your dad—”

“Will eat two of them and then pretend last night never happened,” Oliver finishes.

It’s a little sad. But it’s the way the Queens have always worked. Unlike her and her own mother, who have to talk about _everything_ until they feel better. The Queens will argue, and then they’ll ignore each other until enough time has passed that they can move on, ignoring the problem all together. Like it never happened. “It wouldn’t kill him to apologize, though.” Felicity grumbles under her breath. “Or cut you a little bit of slack.”

“I’ve never given him a reason to cut me any slack,” he responds quietly.

Felicity shrugs, “maybe not before. But you deserve some now. Your dad is blind if he can’t see how hard you’ve been working.”

Oliver’s eyes soften as he looks down at her, “well, now I’m really sorry that I didn’t call you last night. I should have known that you would make me feel better.” He opens the door wider. “Come in, Felicity. Help me get breakfast ready.”

She follows him silently into the house and down the hall, taking off her jacket and placing it on one of the stools in the kitchen. Felicity smiles as she looks around the kitchen, one of her favorite rooms in the mansion. And it’s not just because she and Oliver are always the first ones awake whenever she spends the night...and they’ve had a number of early morning encounters that sometimes involved him standing at the fridge shirtless, drinking a glass of orange juice.

Felicity’s smile is also present because she sees Raisa as soon as she enters the room. The older woman is standing on the other side of the room, putting flowers in a vase that sits on the center of a small table, surely an array that she’d picked herself that morning. And her face lights up when she sees them coming. 

“Good morning, Oliver. Miss Felicity,” Raisa greets in her thick Russian accent, nodding to each of them. 

“Morning, Raisa,” Oliver answers with the same bright affection he’s always held for their housekeeper. “Felicity brought bagels, so I was thinking we would handle breakfast before my parents come down. Do you mind?”

Raisa shakes her head, giving them a sheepish smile. “Do you want me to start some coffee before I go?”

Oliver shakes his head politely, “No, thank you. I’ve got it.”

Felicity gives Oliver the courtesy of waiting until Raisa is out of earshot before she leans in to tease him with a whispered, “are you sure you know how to use the coffee maker?”

He returns it with a playful glare, then grabs the jar of fresh coffee beans on the counter, depositing a few scoops into the grinder before turning it on. Felicity pinches her lips together as the loud noise fills the kitchen, amused to see him working it, since it’s not something she’s ever seen him do. 

“Since when do you know your way around a kitchen?” Felicity chuckles, her eyes tracking him as he finishes starting the pot of coffee, and then as he opens the refrigerator and pulls out the eggs, followed by a bowl and a whisk.

A whiff of coffee hits her nose a few moments later, and she groans.

He glances at her over his shoulder, “Despite popular belief, I actually am a functioning adult.”

She cocks her head to the side, noting his light tone, but she still feels the need to clarify, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

Oliver looks at her again, smiling warmly. “I know,” he says with a wink. And then he begins to crack the eggs, focused on the dozen in front of him, working with impressive speed and accuracy. “I don’t have a Raisa in Russia,” he says with a shrug. “I got tired of eating out all the time, so I started to teach myself how to cook.”

“Okay then, Master Chef,” Felicity grins, stepping up next to him. “Where do you want me?”

As soon as the words are out, her face drops, her wide eyes swinging up to him. “And by that I mean where do you want my hands? To help you cook! Oh my god,” she closes her eyes, shaking her head at herself.

Oliver’s laugh is low and breathy, and right outside her ear as he mumbles back, “I want you just about everywhere, Felicity Smoak. The same goes for your hands.” Her breath catches in her throat, but he’s gone before she can react. “But for now, why don’t you start slicing the bagels?”

By the time she finishes slicing and stacking the bagels neatly onto a plate, Oliver is busy cooking the eggs, concentrating as he stands at the stove. Felicity shakes her head, charmed by the tiny crease between his eyebrows while he focuses on not burning breakfast. Not to mention, the sight of him with a spatula in his hand is _adorable._ She sighs, shaking her head again and turning away before she gets caught staring. 

He’d pulled out some fruit and set it aside, so Felicity busies herself with rinsing the raspberries and blueberries first. She mixes the fruit in a large bowl, cutting up some strawberries too, quietly humming to herself. Then she grabs the pineapple and finds a bigger knife. 

It isn’t until she’s halfway through her first, slow and careful slice that she feels Oliver’s eyes on her. She turns, seeing him hovering over her shoulder, wincing as he observes her. 

“What?” Felicity frowns.

Oliver makes a face, his eyes on the knife in her hand. “It’s a little nerve wracking...you with a knife that big.”

She rolls her eyes, “Oliver, please. I’m not a child. I think I can handle cutting up some fruit.” But as if to instantly contradict her, Felicity loses her grip on the handle, and the knife clatters against the cutting board. She gasps, raising her hands to keep them out of the way as it bounces twice. 

“You were saying?” Oliver asks, suddenly appearing at her side. He picks the knife off the counter, out of her reach, and nudges her to step aside. 

Felicity digs her heels in, stubborn, and holds her hand out for the knife again. “You distracted me.”

Oliver chuckles, shaking his head as he shifts to stand behind her, catching her between his arms. He places the pineapple upright with one hand, carefully offering the knife in the other. Felicity takes the handle, waiting for him to let go and step away. But Oliver remains where he is. His fingers wrap around hers, guiding the knife back into place and slowly starting to cut the fruit, picking up where she’d left off. 

Her breath shallow, Felicity lets him, her hand following where he’s leading the movement. “What are you doing?” She whispers.

His fingers pause, his mouth near her ear, his chest pressed warmly against her back. “Helping,” he mumbles back. And she can hear the smile in his voice. Loud and clear.

Felicity tilts her head back, leaning on his shoulder as she looks up at him. Her line of sight zeroes in on the dimple that dents his cheek. The one that she’s noticed only appears when his smile is genuine. 

_How many times has she thought about kissing him there? Just about every time she’s seen him smile like this._

With a smile of her own, Felicity leans in, pushing to her toes to reach him, and presses a kiss to his dimple. Slow and natural. Oliver pauses again, his smile flickering as his hands freeze. Then he tips his head to look down at her. “Now look who’s being distracting…”

Felicity grins, twisting in his arms again to face forward. She tightens her grip on the knife, cutting the pineapple into small cubes and enjoying how it feels to have Oliver’s hand on hers, just touching her. She takes her time, knowing that once they’re done, he’ll have no reason to stay pressed against her. And she really likes the way his body is wrapped around hers at the moment.

Humming quietly, whatever song had been playing in the car while she drove over earlier, Felicity picks up a piece of the fruit and pops it in her mouth. She’s so focused on what she’s doing and on the blissful little cocoon Oliver has created around her that she doesn’t really notice how his eyes keep passing over her profile. How still he is, just letting her _be_ , enjoying the moment as much as she is.

Once she’s done, she sets the knife down and takes one more piece of pineapple. Just to double check that it tastes good before everyone else eats it, she reconciles. Felicity also doesn’t notice the way she moans, savoring the flavor. 

But Oliver does.

Her hands are reaching for the bowl, moving to put the rest of the pineapple with the other fruit, but she stops when Oliver gently rubs against her, pushing her into the counter. Swallowing her bite, Felicity licks her lips and presses back, her hips rolling on their own accord. 

Oliver gasps, his fingers gliding up her chest until he reaches her chin. Then he tips her head back and kisses her, growling as he tastes the sweetness from the pineapple she’d just eaten. 

Closing her eyes, Felicity revels in the way he responds to her; his hand tightening on her jaw, his kiss hot and fevered. When Oliver’s tongue slides over the seam of her lips, seeking entrance, she instantly opens for him with a low whimper. She pushes onto her toes, angling her body against his, and groans when she finds the friction her body craves. 

Her ass grinds sinfully against him, and Oliver’s breath grows ragged, nipping and sucking at her lower lip in revenge. He bends his knees, thrusting shallowly, letting her feel how hard he is. Felicity moans in response; lost in his touch, his hands all over her. He tightens his fingers on her hip, kneading the curves of her flesh. The other hand falls down her body, a ghostly trail that makes her tremble beneath it.

The touch is tender, tracing down her neck, over her chest. His fingers drag along every inch of her that he can reach, sending a shiver after shiver down his spine. And then Felicity gasps when he palms her breast, his thumb scraping over her hardening nipple again and again, his attention seeming to focus on it.

“Felicity…” Oliver moans into her mouth, his tongue meeting hers in a heated, needy, passionate kiss.

How is it even possible?

How can he bring her body to life in a way that feels foreign to her, yet completely safe at the same time?

It doesn’t seem fair that _this_ has been right in front of them, all this time, and they’re only just beginning to discover it.

Everything slows for a moment.

Breakfast is forgotten. The smell of the coffee doesn’t register in her mind anymore. She’s incapable of anything more than feeling him. His heavy breath against her lips. Hearing him. Tasting him. _Wanting_ him. 

The door behind them suddenly opens, someone coming inside from the backyard, and Oliver jumps across the kitchen faster than Felicity can even open her eyes. When she does, she sees Moira Queen walking in. Moira’s face twists in confusion as she glances up from the newspaper in her hands, her eyes moving between the two of them. 

Felicity’s heart instantly drops.

“Good morning, kids,” his mother nods, schooling her expression to an unreadable smile as she hesitates in the doorway.

_Oh god, what if she_ saw _that? What if his_ mother _had just seen them practically, no,_ literally _dry humping in the kitchen?_

Felicity forces a smile back, not daring to look at Oliver. “Good morning, Moira.”

She pats Felicity on the shoulder, tucking the newspaper under her arm. “Sweetheart, I thought I heard you leave last night. Did you end up staying over?”

“No,” Felicity answers, trying to breathe normally, to shake that nervous edge out of her tone. “No, I just came by this morning, um,” she points lamely to the plate of bagels, “with these.”

“Ohhh,” Moira grins. “Grant’s Bakery?”

Felicity nods, feeling like her skin is still on fire in every place that Oliver touched, which in turn, makes her cheeks feel like they’re on fire with embarrassment. Because Moira is still looking at her. “Are you okay, Felicity?” She asks with a frown.

“Yeah,” Felicity squeaks, “Oh, yes. I’m good.”

Oliver clears his throat, “Mom, can I get you a cup of coffee?”

Moira smiles, nodding to her son. And Felicity finally glances at him, trying to act normal, since his mother hasn’t mentioned seeing any funny business, so maybe she didn’t… “Um, me too, please?”

Oliver’s eyes flicker to her, pausing as he reaches for the mugs at the top of the cupboard, his shirt rising to reveal the skin of his stomach. It’s a nice view, but she wouldn’t mind pulling his shirt up just a _bit_ more to see the abs that she’d ogled more than a few times before… 

Felicity huffs, shaking her head at herself. “Plenty of sugar and—”

“Just a splash of cream,” Oliver finishes for her. After holding her stare for another long moment, he finally glances away, but his smile is keen as he murmurs under his breath, “I know.”

They move around each other in silence; Oliver hands her the coffee, which is perfect, Felicity passes him a bowl of fruit after picking out the raspberries because she knows he hates them. Then they set everything on the island in the middle of the kitchen, each of them realizing at the same time that Moira’s eyes were on them, watching them over her coffee cup instead of reading her newspaper.

“What?” Oliver asks his mother, folding his arms defensively over his chest, taking a subtle step away from Felicity.

Moira smiles, raising an eyebrow as she stirs her spoon around her mug. “I just didn’t know you two…” Felicity holds her breath, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Oliver tenses, too. “Were so capable in the kitchen.”

Letting out a breath of relief, Felicity shrugs. “I said the same thing when I just saw Oliver making scrambled eggs...I mean, have you ever seen him even touch a spatula? Mind blown,” she laughs, bringing her fingers to her head to visualize her brain explosion. 

“Okay,” Oliver huffs, shaking his head as he walks around the counter to sit down next to his mom. “At least I didn’t almost chop my fingers off trying to cut up some fruit.”

“Hey!” Felicity pouts, opening her mouth to argue, but he kind of has her there. Oliver smirks, and she tosses him a glare. 

Moira glances between them again, and Oliver straightens in his chair, clearing his throat as he turns to her. “So, mom, what are your plans for today?”

Pinching her lips together, Moira looks from her son to Felicity again, “well, I was actually hoping to get some planning done for your father’s party. We’re having it on the yacht and we’ve set a date, but that’s about as far as we’ve gotten.”

“Oh,” Felicity stutters, “that’s a great idea. I mean, the yacht would be nice. It’s a good yacht. Good...good yacht.” She bites her lip, her eyes zoning out as she looks down at the bagel she’d just picked. Oliver clears his throat again, more than amused, knowing exactly where her mind had gone. “For parties!” Felicity’s head snaps up. “It’s a good yacht for parties. Because you know, Oliver’s going away party was fun. Kind of fun. A normal amount of fun. When, um, when is Robert’s party?”

“This summer, about three months away,” Moira answers, cocking her head to the side. “We won’t have much time between Thea’s graduation, your graduation, and the party, so I would like to get as much done as possible while I have you all at home. Hopefully, I can at least get the guest list and invitations settled so I can send them out by the end of the week. Felicity...what are you up to today?”

“Me?” Felicity looks at her, eyes wide. “Well, I don’t know. Just a bit of homework that’s due after break.”

Moira brushes her off, “Oh, darling, you have two whole weeks of spring vacation for homework. Maybe you could...help me today?”

Felicity blinks at her, unsure how to answer. She and Oliver _had_ agreed that they’d help Moira with the party, whatever she needed. But guest lists? That was definitely more Thea’s expertise. Since Felicity hasn’t bothered to remember the names of Robert’s acquaintances since she was twelve...

Oliver snorts, reading the look on her face, and she narrows her eyes at him. “I would love to, Moira,” Felicity starts, “but don’t you think Thea would be more helpful with that?”

“Nonsense,” Moira shrugs. “I can make the list and you can help me get the invitations ready. It’ll be easy. Besides, Thea has plans today.”

“Ah,” Felicity raises her eyebrows, understanding.

Moira smiles, patting her hand. “I’m more than happy to have your help, dear.”

“Yeah,” Felicity hopes her voice doesn’t sound too whiny. It’s not that she doesn’t want to spend time with Moira, it’s just...party planning. 

_Ugh._

Felicity really does want to help with Robert’s celebration, but the last thing she wants to do was come up with a guest list full of people that she couldn’t care less about if she tried.

“Can’t wait.”

Suddenly, her day had gone from hopefully spending some time with Oliver, to this. When she looks over at him, it’s obvious that he’s getting a kick out of it.

Oh, so her torture is his amusement? 

He couldn’t have bailed her out? Come up with some kind of excuse to get her out of it? “Oliver,” she cocks her head, her voice full of innocence. “You know your dad’s friends and colleagues better than I do, maybe you should help, too.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t,” he shakes his head, his tone remorseful but Felicity knows better. “I have a video call with Curtis in a couple of hours. We still have a lot of work to get done on Mr. Rowe’s plan, especially since he’s officially signed a contract with us.”

“Of course you do,” Felicity grumbles, her eyes narrowing.

_Oh, she’ll definitely have to get him back for this._

Moira smiles at her son, pride shining on her face. “I’m so glad that worked out, darling. And you know your father is pleased about it, too. He owes that to you. He knows that.”

“Thanks, mom…”

Felicity focuses on her bagel, working very hard not to voice the various retorts that pop into her mind.

_Then maybe he shouldn’t be so stubborn._

_Maybe he should tell Oliver himself that he’s proud of him._

But she knows better than to expect that of Robert Queen. Forgive and forget, and don’t mention it again, is more his style.

With a sigh, Felicity takes her fork, stabbing a piece of pineapple from her bowl and taking a bite. 

She can feel Oliver’s attention on her, watching her out of the corner of his eye, and she knows that he’s remembering what the fruit had led to just a few minutes earlier. The flavor on her tongue makes her think about his kiss, his lips chasing it, but she pretends not to notice. Since Oliver decided to leave her alone for a day of party planning with his mother, Felicity makes her next bite slower, knowing that his eyes are still on her as her lips wrap around the fork.

Almost immediately, she hears him suck in a breath.

Felicity fights a smirk. She never imagined that could affect Oliver Queen like this...that it was even possible. And she’d be lying if she said it didn’t excite her, wondering what turned him on, which buttons she could push, how much she could tease him…

Shaking her head, Felicity pushed the thoughts aside. It was way too early in the morning to be thinking about _that._ She had a long day ahead of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think :)


	4. Insecurities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many more seemingly innocent things will be tethered to thoughts of Felicity Smoak? 
> 
> How long until she consumes him completely? 
> 
> And will he even care?

Once he finished breakfast with Felicity and Moira, Oliver had gone on his run, taken a shower, and had a brief call with Curtis. Then his dad had invited him to lunch. Or rather, demanded that he attend lunch with him and a colleague at the Starling City Country Club. 

Sitting at the table is every bit as awful as Oliver expected it to be. In fact, he was starting to wonder if helping his mom and Felicity with that guest list for Robert’s party would be less torturous than hearing Robert and Mr. Ames discussing golf. 

Zachary Ames had graduated just a few years before Oliver, and he’d recently started a company, Unidac Industries, dealing in developmental technology that Robert has his eye on. He wants Unidac as a subsidiary for Queen Consolidated. Obviously QC’s name attached to cutting edge technology would be a win. And Unidac would gain the resources to work on practically anything they pleased.

The partnership seems simple. A no brainer. Mutually beneficial for both companies. And Oliver knows that this is what their lunch is about. He knows that it would be a huge merger for QC with the potential to bring them all millions.

But after his mistake the night before, Oliver was surprised that his dad invited him along. 

That is, until they showed up to the country club and he realized what his presence is for. 

Robert has been doing all the schmoozing. But Zach Ames brought his wife with him, and the longer Oliver sat beside her, the more he came to understand that he was here to keep her busy. His father had literally brought him along to play the part of a shiny new toy to distract Helena Bertinelli so Robert could speak to Zach without interruption.

Any attempt Oliver made to join the conversation was quickly brushed off by his father. 

He’s never been a stranger to distraction. Usually though, he was trying to find one. Not the thing being dangled in front of a woman as one.

In his lifetime, Oliver had welcomed countless distractions. A night out at a club rather than doing homework. Seeing the bottom of a tequila bottle instead of following through with whatever commitment he’d promised his mother he would do. It wasn’t uncommon for his eye to wander in relationships, either. A pretty girl in a tight dress was often prioritized over his on and off girlfriend throughout school. 

Friends over family. Fun over work. 

But it isn’t until Helena Bertinelli puts her hand on his thigh, under the table where her husband can’t see, that Oliver finally understands how _used_ it can make a person feel, to be someone else’s distraction. 

From the moment they sat down at the table, he’d pegged her as a very bored and very lonely woman. Whenever she tried to speak, to offer an opinion, her husband either rolled his eyes, waved her off, or ignored her completely. Which was unfortunately, and awkwardly, similar to how his own father was treating Oliver throughout the same conversations. 

It did make Oliver feel bad for her, though. He is trying to be polite until this thing is over and they can all go home...just _without_ the flirtation he’d typically use to distract from the tension. A joke here, a wink in her direction, and soon enough neither of them would care that they were being ignored.

Maybe if things were different, Oliver would even be the one to touch Helena under the table first. But since he has no interest in doing any of that, he carefully sets his water glass down, clearing his throat as he shifts in his chair, moving his leg out of her reach.

Helena pinches her lips together as he maneuvers away from her, her hand slipping from his thigh as she turns towards him. “What’s the matter, Oliver?” She smirks, “if you’re afraid of my husband, I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about.” Her eyes flicker with a faint sadness as she finishes, “in fact, he’d probably say ‘thank you’ and ask how soon you can have a Unidac/Queen Consolidated contract written up.”

Oliver flinches, honestly wishing that he could disagree. But after the last hour that he’d spent with the couple, it wouldn’t surprise him if Zach Ames responded that way. Considering his words carefully, Oliver looks Helena in the eyes. “Look,” he says quietly, knowing that neither his father or her husband care enough to listen. “You’re beautiful, and from what I’ve seen, very smart. It’s crazy to me that the man you married doesn’t appreciate that. It’s just...I’m kind of seeing someone.”

Helena arches an eyebrow, her steel blue eyes staring back at him, barely a moment’s reaction to his words. “Kind of?”

He shakes his head, not even close to being desperate enough to confide in a stranger. Whatever is going on between him and Felicity, wherever it’s about to take them...Oliver is sure that they’re perfectly capable of figuring it out. The two of them. He’s not looking for his sister, or his mom, or even Tommy, to weigh in on the situation. So he’s certainly not seeking advice from a woman he just met an hour ago.

His reaction seems to intrigue her even more, and Helena brings her elbow to the table, resting her chin on her open palm as she leans closer. “Come on,” she smiles, “tell me.”

Of all the things Oliver had found a distraction in, a woman’s jewelry is definitely the most bizarre. But as Helena moves, a bracelet on her wrist slips down her arm. It’s full of charms, but the first one Oliver notices is a tiny gold pineapple.

Pineapples had never made him instantly think about Felicity before. Not until this morning. After watching her attempt to cut one up, feeling how responsive she was when he stepped behind her to help, and learning that the flavor on her lips was too sweet for words...he’s probably never going to look at the fruit the same way again.

She’s on his mind constantly. It doesn’t seem possible that Felicity could occupy even more of his headspace than she already does. And yet it keeps happening.

How many more seemingly innocent things will be tethered to thoughts of Felicity Smoak? 

How long until she consumes him completely? 

And will he even care?

“Oh,” Helena is smirking as Oliver glances up at her, remembering that she’s still waiting for an explanation. “Whoever she is, she really dug her claws in deep, huh?”

Oliver frowns; the idea of Felicity having any kind of ‘claws’ is so far off base. He opens his mouth to disagree, instinctively wanting to explain that the girl they’re talking about is kind, and warm, and beautiful. But he bites his tongue instead, realizing that it’s better to let Helena think whatever she wants.

Until he can convince Felicity that they don’t need to keep their growing relationship a secret, he probably should refrain from blabbing to strangers about how incredible she is.

But he wants to.

 _God, does he want to._

They’re not even in a relationship, yet Oliver feels more serious about Felicity than he has about any girl before.

He knows that she has hesitations. Doubts. They haven’t had a chance to talk about those, but Oliver is pretty sure that her fear revolves around other people. 

If he knows her, and he does, then Felicity is mostly worried about what everyone else, assumably _his_ family, will have to say. How they’ll feel about the two of them being together. And until they get that issue out of the way, they’ll never be able to move forward. 

He wants to move forward more than anything, but his problem has always been that he acts first and thinks later. He doesn’t want to make that mistake with Felicity. He doesn’t want to rush into something before either of them are ready for it. Because doing that might mean that he ends up losing her.

And he can’t lose her.

He can’t look at a pineapple charm bracelet without daydreaming about her. He can’t afford to lose her.

He’s been holding on to his feelings for her for so long that his only focus now is making sure he does this right. 

As long as he can be patient, let things between them move at whatever pace she is comfortable with, then they’ll be okay.

“Oliver,” his father’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Tell Mr. Ames about your work in Moscow and that budget report you came up with last month for one of our clients. I think we could implement something very similar for Unidac, don’t you?”

Robert taps his finger against his glass, taking a sip of the scotch as he raises an eyebrow. _This is important, kid...you better respond correctly,_ his eyes seem to say.

His father probably expects a short and sweet answer, since he probably doesn’t think that Oliver knows much about the report in the first place. Oliver puts on a smile, leaning towards Mr. Ames as he starts explaining all the work he and his team had done. He’d been there for every step, so it really isn’t hard to do.

The two men go back and forth; Zach asking questions and Oliver answering them easily. But after a few minutes, Robert jumps back into the conversation, clearly uncomfortable that his son could once again be the connection between QC and a potential partnership that he’d planned to close on himself. Just like the deal with Richard Rowe. 

When the attention is off of him, Oliver settles back into his chair with a sigh, carefully avoiding Helena’s stare. He’d never actually answered her previous questions, nor does he have any intention to. And he really doesn’t care to hear her commentary on his strange working relationship with his father, either.

Instead, he fishes his phone from his pocket, fighting a smile when he sees a message from Felicity. Sent to him twenty minutes ago.

Felicity: _Did you know that your mom has six different friends named Karen?_

Oliver pinches his lips together, holding his phone in his lap as he types back: _Is she inviting all of them to the party?_

Felicity’s answer comes quickly: _Of course._

Oliver: _Damn. I was hoping Karen Reeder wouldn’t make the list. She’s older than my mom but she’s always flirting with me…_

Felicity: _Are you saying you’ve never flirted back?_

Oliver: _Well...maybe once or twice, but just out of boredom._

Her only response is the emoji rolling its eyes, and he could easily picture the expression on _her_ face. After so many years of knowing Felicity, he’d seen his fair share of eye rolls.

Oliver: _I’m glad that you’re making it through the guest list of Karens._

Felicity: _Oh, it’s been tough. You definitely owe me for enduring this torture all on my own._

Oliver smirks, just thinking of the ways he could make it up to her. Then he quickly glances up, his smile falling as he remembers that there are other people at the table. But his dad is in another riveting conversation about golf with Zach. And even Helena isn’t paying him any attention, resorting to scrolling through her own phone, looking bored.

Still, he tries to control himself as he texts Felicity: _How could I make it better?_

Felicity: _Wine._

Oliver: _As in...a nice bottle of red that you and I could share at a nice restaurant?_

Felicity: _Are you suggesting a date?_

Oliver: _I am. Or will this require an apology where we’re not wearing any clothes?_

Felicity: _Can’t I have both?_

Oliver has to bite his cheek to keep from chuckling: _You can have anything you want, Felicity._

Felicity: _Good. Then I’ll take both._

Oliver: _How does tonight work for you?_

He knows he might be coming off a bit too eager, but he doesn’t really care. He’s never _felt_ this eager when it came to a girl. When it came to getting a date. But Oliver just wants Felicity to see that he’s serious about her.

Felicity: _I can’t tonight. Thea and I have plans. Rain check?_

He deflates immediately, wishing he’d asked her on a date as soon as he saw her standing at the front door earlier that morning. Or the moment he’d seen her standing outside the hangar to pick him up. Instead he’d waited, and now she had plans with his sister, after spending the whole day with his mom...and Oliver realizes that he’s going to have to fight his own family for Felicity’s time and attention. He wants to make sure that their first official date is perfect. Because he wants to show her to know how much he cares about her. And them. And the potential of a future that they could have together.

Oliver: _Tomorrow night?_

Felicity: _Yes, that would work. Just to be clear here...we are talking about a date right? Like a date-date? That involves you and me at a restaurant where maybe I wear a nice dress and heels?_

It sounds perfect. And he already has an Italian restaurant in mind; one that’s just outside of Starling which will lower the risk of running into someone they know, which will make Felicity less anxious. He makes a mental note to call later to make a reservation.

Oliver: _Exactly like a date-date. That involves me picking you up and complimenting you on how gorgeous you look in your dress. It also might involve me bringing you flowers...as long as you wouldn’t tease me too much for it._

Thankfully, he already knows that sunflowers are her favorite.

Felicity: _I wouldn’t tease you, but it will be a little strange. Thea’s taking me out to dinner tonight, your mom is insisting on buying me lunch now, and you tomorrow? You Queens sure know how to keep a girl fed and happy._

Felicity: _Oh. Wait._

Felicity: _I wasn’t trying to imply that I assume you’ll be paying for dinner._

Felicity: _I didn’t mean it like that._

Felicity: _Of course you don’t have to!_

Felicity: _I’d be happy to pay._

Shaking his head, Oliver has to work to stop himself from smiling again. He’s perfectly familiar with the way she babbles when she thinks she’s said the wrong thing, and it’s quite amusing that she even does it through text.

Oliver: _How about you pay on the second date?_

Felicity: _Already planning on a second date, are you?_

Oliver: _I’m planning on many more than that, Felicity._

She doesn’t answer right away, and he ends up staring at his phone for a few long moments before getting pulled back into the conversation by Helena. Apparently they’ve moved on to talking about their future travel plans for the upcoming summer, and she pulls him in by asking about Russia. Oliver keeps his phone in his hand, politely answering Helena’s questions about the sites and the weather in Moscow as he waits for Felicity to text him back. 

It’s not long before Zachary interrupts them though, claiming that they’ll probably be taking a trip to the U.K. instead because he’s heard the golf courses there are phenomenal. And then he and Robert dive into yet another discussion of the sport. 

Helena sighs as she falls back in her chair, rightly assuming that the men have stopped paying attention to her as she rolls her eyes. Putting a hand over his mouth to hide his smile, Oliver glances at her, once again taking pity. “It’s amazing how they can make anything circle back to golf, isn’t it?” He whispers.

She tips her head down, narrowing her eyes at him. “You have no idea. Zach probably understands how to correctly use a golf club more than he does his own dick.”

Oliver raises his eyebrows, glad that his hand is still hiding his amusement, although he can tell that Helena notices. She smirks back at him, “what? That’s not a problem for you, Mr. Queen?”

“Um, no,” Oliver glances away from her analytical gaze, ice blue eyes that are far too focused on him, given the proximity of her husband. He still finds it baffling that the woman seated beside him is so obviously ignored by the man she married. But even more perplexing is that Helena would stay married to him. She doesn’t seem like the type to be ignored or mistreated. Yet she’s allowed her husband to dismiss and interrupt her numerous times during this short encounter with the couple.

Shaking his head, Oliver straightens in his chair again, checking his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed a text from Felicity. Just as much as he was unwilling to share details about his own love life, he isn’t interested in sticking his nose into the business of Helena Bertinelli and Zachary Ames, even if he’s mildly curious.

“I know you’re in town for a couple more weeks,” the woman mumbles as she leans towards him once again. “I’m sure we both know that I could entertain you,” her voice becomes just a whisper, her eyes darkening. And her hand, once again, finds his thigh. Her nails scrape along the material of his pants, “your needs. Your wants. Your desires…”

This time, Oliver feels a rush of anger. He’s already tried to ignore her flirtation. He’s brushed off her advances. He’s told her ‘no’ as politely as he could. So now, he remains still, surprisingly unfazed by her touch, even for him. And he stares down at her with hard eyes. “This isn’t about me at all,” he answers. “This is about _you_. Your needs, wants, and desires. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re unhappy, Ms. Bertinelli...with your husband, your life, maybe even yourself, but I promise you that there’s nothing I can do to fix that for you.”

Her hand freezes where she’d been stroking his leg, but her grip tightens. “I’m not asking you to fix a damn thing. I’m perfectly content with my life.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow, hearing the defensiveness in her voice instantly. He has no doubt that his original assessment of the woman is true; bored and unhappy. And for whatever reason, looking for trouble.

“I won’t pretend to know you, Ms. Bertinelli,” Oliver cocks his head to the side, leaning closer, holding her gaze to make sure she’s listening. “You’re right. I don’t know if you’re looking to make your husband jealous, or rightfully getting back at him for the way he treats you, or if you simply are not in love with him and you’re hoping to spend your time with someone who can appreciate you.”

Her eyes flicker with sadness when she finally glances away from him, and it lets Oliver know that he probably hit the nail on the head with the last option. “My only point here,” he continues, his voice much kinder than before, “is that I’m not the man to help you with any of those things.”

For a lot of reasons. Professionally, it’d be a mess. Not that that has stopped him before. But he’s trying to do better. And even if he wasn’t, first and most importantly is Felicity. Just the idea of hurting her in that way, even with their current, yet-to-be-defined status, makes his hands shake.

As the words pass his lips, Oliver realizes just how deeply that night on the yacht had changed things for him. Before then, he never would have imagined saying something like this to a woman, especially not one as beautiful as Helena Bertinelli. But now, he can say them with conviction, with confidence...because he has nothing to prove. His goal isn’t to _satisfy_ any woman who willingly spreads her legs for him.

His only goal is to show Felicity that he isn’t that person anymore.

To be the man that deserves to be with a woman like her.

That’s all he’s wanted since the night he’d first kissed her.

There’s not a single piece of him that wants to go back to how things were before.

* * *

Spending most of the morning with Moira was surprisingly enjoyable. Though Felicity wasn’t going to tell Oliver that right away, planning on teasing him a bit longer since he’d chosen not to help. 

Ultimately though, it was for the best. Just getting through breakfast between the three of them had felt awkward enough. But once Oliver left the kitchen, the atmosphere between Felicity and Moira eased up a little, and then a little more, and after a while, things felt perfectly normal.

They’ve been working on the guest list all morning, laughing as they reminisced; like the first time Thea brought Roy to a fundraiser, which happened to be a fashion show, and one of the organizers had mistaken him for one of the models and pushed him onto the catwalk. He’d done surprisingly well up there, but it was the first and last time the poor guy agreed to attend an event like that with Thea.

Their little trip down memory lane makes the time pass quickly. 

A few hours later, the list is nearly done and they’re well on their way to getting the invitations ready. But then Felicity keeps getting her Karens confused; writing the wrong address on the wrong Karen’s invitation. 

After her third mistake, she drops her pen with a frustrated huff. 

Moira frowns, stopping her own work to look at Felicity’s. She starts to chuckle, “trust me, their names and addresses are easier to keep straight than the women themselves. How about we take a break?”

Felicity shrugs, standing up from her chair and stretching her arms above her head. “Is Raisa around? I’ve been meaning to ask her for that lavender lemonade recipe.”

Standing up, Moira waves her hand. “Oh, another time, dear. Let’s go out for lunch.”

“Okay, sure,” Felicity smiles. 

She isn’t surprised when Moira suggests Starling City Country Club for lunch, since it’s one of her and Robert’s favorite places to go and bump into people they know, to keep up with Starling’s elite. 

When they pull up, the golf course is full of the rich men she’s used to seeing at parties. And when they go inside, the hostess is quick to approach them, greeting Moira by name and offering a table on the back patio right away.

As they follow the woman into the club, Felicity knows that her jean shorts and tank top catch a few eyes. But she’s a few years past feeling self-conscious about something like this. Jeans aren’t usually appropriate attire for such a place, and if she wasn’t with Moira, the hostess probably would have asked her to leave.

Felicity would never dream of leveraging the Queen family for their wealth or status, but walking into a country club wearing cutoff jeans is exactly the kind of small satisfaction that she and Thea had always reveled in, knowing that no one would say a thing about it if their dresses at the school dances were too short or if they snuck a glass of champagne at a gala. They’d become so familiar with their little acts of rebellion that it was simply the norm now. So much so that even Moira stopped caring years ago. Which of course, for Thea, was always the point of it all.

Turning down the hallway, Felicity isn’t all that shocked to see Robert and Oliver seated in the dining room. She’d had a feeling the club would be the place they’d take their lunch guests, hoping to entertain them into becoming business partners, from what Oliver has said. Even though the boys didn’t say where they’d be going before they’d left, Felicity had already been half-expecting to see them there, and Moira probably had, too. 

What she _hadn’t_ been expecting to see though, was Oliver sitting close to a dark haired woman who had her hand on his thigh, each of them staring intensely at the other.

Felicity’s feet slow down as she follows behind Moira and the hostess, her eyes trained on Oliver and the woman she doesn’t recognize. Before they reach the table, before Oliver even notices them, his companion leans away, removing her hand from his knee. And Felicity grits her teeth, not willing to acknowledge the spark of jealousy that sets her insides on fire.

This time, her frustration isn’t about invitations or silly Karens.

It’s about the man who manages to keep surprising her. But up until now, they’d all been good surprises…

She bites back the feeling that’s tightening her chest. Hurt. Anger. Confusion.

Over the past three months, she and Oliver had talked consistently. She’d grown curious, on a few occasions during that time, to know if he was seeing anyone. But it wasn’t like he’d ever mentioned it. And she didn’t want to ask, fearing that he’d laugh it off, say something like; _of course I’m seeing other people, Felicity! We’re not in a relationship, why wouldn’t I be dating the gorgeous women I meet here!?_

But the more days that passed, the longer their conversations got. They talked about their days. He told her about so many experiences he was having in Moscow; the things he enjoyed, the things he missed at home. And eventually, the thought of Oliver dating someone else faded from her mind. She felt certain that he would have brought it up, even casually, if his life included going out with someone else.

Yet, the sight of a beautiful woman with her hand on Oliver’s knee brings her worries back to the forefront. Quite simply, because it’s right in front of her face. Unavoidable. And it stings.

Felicity shuffles her feet as Moira waltzes right up to the table, interrupting her husband’s conversation with a polite smile before she leans in to kiss his cheek. One look at Oliver, and she can see his surprise, his eyes shifting from his mom to Felicity.

“Sweetheart,” Robert smiles, “I didn’t know you were coming, we would have pulled up another chair.”

“Oh no,” Moira shakes her head, turning so that he can see Felicity standing behind her. “Felicity and I are going to sit out on the patio.” she moves to squeeze her son’s shoulder, smiling down at him. “You look like you’re finishing up anyway.”

Robert gestures to their lunch companions, “Moira, this is Zachary Ames and his wife, Helena Bertinelli.”

Felicity has no control over her expression, her eyebrows raising. _Wife?_ The one who just had her hand on Oliver’s leg is _married?_ And her husband is sitting straight across from her?

That uncomfortable, slightly jealous feeling in Felicity’s chest starts to get even weirder. 

Oliver’s lengthy history of past lovers is one thing. Not her favorite thing, obviously, but something she’s already made peace with at this point. She can see him for the man that he is. And she cares for that man. Deeply.

Their current situation is a hurdle all on its own, though. Between their family and everything with her mom, it’ll be difficult enough for them to have any kind of success as a couple. If there are going to be other women involved, specifically _married_ women...then she is _so_ not doing this.

“Zach, Helena, this is my wife, Moira. And my daughter Thea’s best friend, Felicity Smoak.”

The husband, Zach, leans forward as he smiles. “Hello, Thea’s best friend, Felicity Smoak,” he smirks, his eyes dancing with mischief while they blatantly roam over her body.

_Gross._

Ignoring her instinct to cringe or turn up her nose at the guy, Felicity settles for staring at him blankly instead. “Hi,” she deadpans. 

As if it wasn’t uncomfortable enough to wonder about the married woman who was being touchy with Oliver, why not throw her big, creepy husband into the mix, too?

The crease between Oliver’s eyebrows deepens as he observes Zach, who doesn’t seem to care at all that everyone around the table, including his wife, is silent with discomfort, just watching the interaction. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Zach winks, making Felicity’s cheeks flame red with embarrassment. She isn’t exactly a stranger to this kind of attention from men. And most of the time, she doesn’t really care. But Felicity can’t remember a time when she’s ever felt more awkward.

“Okay,” she grits her teeth. Then she quickly turns to Moira before Zach can continue talking to her. “I’m going to go sit outside.”

Quickly waving to the table, not making direct eye contact with any of them, Felicity hurries for the doors to the patio. Thankfully, Moira handles the tension like a pro, easily diverting the conversation as she asks Zack and Helena how business is going. “Oh, Moira,” Zach’s dismissive tone carries across the room. “You don’t want to be bored with all of that shop talk.”

Felicity rolls her eyes at his answer, pushing outside and taking a breath of fresh air. It helps to calm her down as she looks around, hoping to find a table that will be out of view from the main dining room. Unfortunately, the only option for that seems to be a small table situated around the corner of the building, and it’s already occupied by two women. She bites her lip, choosing a table in the shade, and purposely taking the chair that leaves her back to the windows of the dining room. She’s aware that it leaves her in Oliver’s line of sight, especially since his seat, and his new friend Helena’s seat, are facing the patio.

The moment she sits down, Felicity feels her phone vibrate in her pocket.

She freezes, suddenly feeling as if Oliver’s eyes are on her back, watching her through the windows. 

Her phone buzzes again.

Felicity sighs, pulling it out and opening his messages. 

Oliver: _Are you okay?_

She huffs, her back stiffening because she’s certain that he’s watching her. She doesn’t dare turn around to check if she’s right, but she can feel his eyes burning a hole in her back, making her skin burst with heat from the attention. And she’s glad that her face is hidden. 

Felicity: _Yes._

Oliver: _Are we okay?_

Biting her lip, Felicity stares down at her phone, her skin igniting even hotter. He’s obviously waiting for an answer, but she’s not quite sure what to say. Were they even okay to begin with? Is any of this okay? What ‘we’ is he asking about…them as friends or them as more than friends?

Finally caving in to her curiosity, Felicity can’t help but turn her head, somehow knowing that his face will give her some clarity. The first thing she sees when she glances over her shoulder is Moira coming out from the dining room, a smile on her face as she approaches the table. Felicity lets out a sharp breath, returning the smile. Then she looks to the windows, eyes searching for a moment before she finds Oliver.

Just as she’d suspected, he’s already watching her. His focus is fixed on her face and his expression is serious. He raises an eyebrow as soon as she meets his gaze, once again asking, _are we okay?_

With a sigh, she pinches her lips together, giving him a quick nod before Moira gets to the table. She’s still not sure how she feels about everything that’s happened between them. And she’s unsure about what will happen from that point forward. But as far as their exclusivity...they haven’t had that conversation.

Moira reaches the table before Felicity’s mind can spiral down that path, and she’s grateful for the distraction. “The one advantage about planning my husband a party without his involvement,” Moira murmurs as she takes a seat across from Felicity, “I control the guest list. And those two won’t make the cut.”

Felicity snorts while Moira picks up the menu, her lips a hard line. “Mr. Ames is...quite the character,” she mumbles back.

Moira glances up at her, the look in her eyes harsh. “Mr. Ames is a sexist pig. I’m thankful that you and Thea have known better than to fall for that kind of snake-ish charm.”

“Snake-ish charm?” Felicity laughs, raising her eyebrows at the woman. 

But Moira just pinches her lips, her eyes growing a little sad as she answers quietly, “I mean it, Felicity...The last thing I want for you, or Thea, is a man like _that._ ”

Her tone is serious, her eyes remorseful, and it hits Felicity that Moira could be talking about Oliver. Is that what she means? Is it some kind of warning about her own son because she had seen them kissing in the kitchen earlier, or is she just upset that Zachary Ames had practically harassed her with his eyes in front of a table full of people and been arrogant enough not to care? Moira obviously loves Oliver. But the idea that he would treat Felicity poorly, and the idea that Moira might think he would, is unsettling. It puts a knot in her stomach.

Luckily, their waiter saves them from talking more about that, and even after he leaves, Moira graciously shifts to safer topics. They order salads and lemonades, enjoying the sun while Moira asks about school and Felicity’s post-graduate plans, which she still hasn’t really nailed down.

A degree in computer science can take her pretty much anywhere. Not to mention the fact that a couple of different businesses have emailed her, asking her to apply for a position in their company. But she wants to get through the rest of the semester and enjoy the accomplishment before making those decisions.

By the time they finish their lunch, Oliver’s table is empty. Which Felicity notices as soon as she stands up, her eyes moving to the windows once again. She waits until she and Moira are out of the restaurant and back in the car before she checks her phone again, finding that he’s sent her two more texts.

Oliver: _If you’re worried about that thing with Helena...it wasn’t what it probably looked like._

Her heart tightens, believing it easily. But she isn’t sure if that’s because Oliver flirting with a married woman after everything he’s said to her the last few months doesn’t make any sense, or because it’s what she wants to hear.

Oliver: _Felicity...please tell me that we can at least talk about this._

Felicity types her reply quickly as Moira starts the car: _We can talk later...I just need some time to think._

Oliver: _Okay. But I want you to know something._   
Felicity: _What’s that?_

Oliver: _You’re the only woman I want to be with, Felicity. I’ve known that since the morning I left Starling._

Oliver: _I just wanted to make that clear...because I know how you are when that beautiful brain thinks too much._

With her heart instantly feeling lighter, Felicity reads the texts again. And then once more. 

That...is definitely information that should be taken into consideration. 

And of course Oliver knows her. He knows that she overthinks, overanalyzes, talks herself out of things. He knows that she’s scared and he probably knows why. Sometimes she forgets how long he’s known her. How well he knows her.

Felicity sighs, dropping her phone into her lap. She notices Moira glancing at her from the corner of her eye, but she keeps her lips sealed. When they reach the mansion a few minutes later, Felicity thanks Moira for lunch, and for a (surprisingly) fun day. And Moira is already prepared to set up another day for them to spend together.

Before she gets pulled back into the house and back into party planning, Felicity offers a quick goodbye, wanting to get home and get a couple of hours of homework in before she has to get ready to meet Thea.

She’s relieved when she arrives home to see that her mom is out, glad to have the house to herself. But despite her best intentions, she only ends up studying for thirty minutes before she finds herself distracted, her mind wandering to Oliver.

Oliver who only wants to be with her.

Oliver who has known it since the morning he left Starling. Over five months ago.

The thought still makes her heart skip a beat.

After a while, Felicity gives up on her homework, deciding on a long shower instead. Then she takes a bit more time than usual to do her hair and makeup, and an extra few minutes deciding what to wear, finally settling on a simple, strapless cotton blue dress and sandals.

She knows it will just be her and Thea but she mostly just wants to feel like she’s doing something productive as she willingly allows herself to daydream about Oliver.

A text to Thea to confirm a place and time, and it’s not much longer before she’s leaving the house again, the sun having set in the process.

Callum’s barely has a crowd when Felicity shows up, but she knows it’s only because the night is young. Usually the bar is packed, since there isn’t really a place quite like it in Starling. The high-beamed ceilings, dark wood and stone fireplace create the mood of an Irish pub, which was the owner’s inspiration after spending years in Ireland.

Suffice it to say, it was one of Felicity’s favorite spots thanks to the darkened and typically relaxed atmosphere. No matter how busy it could get. It also had the best beer.

Felicity approaches the wide, mahogany bar with a wall of various colorful bottles behind it. She smiles at Callum O’Connor when she sees that he’s working behind it, taking a seat on one of the stools. After ordering her favorite beer, the lightest and fruitiest thing that he has on tap, Felicity takes small sips, chatting with Callum while she waits for Thea.

He’d graduated from their high school the year before Felicity and Thea and two years behind Oliver, but it wasn’t until he’d come back from Ireland and opened his bar that any of them really got to know him.

And he’s an interesting guy to say the least, much more friendly with Thea than Felicity though, which tends to leave them with some awkward silence whenever Thea isn’t there to buffer. Luckily most of those occasions involve alcohol, so Felicity can replace her usual babbling with drinking. And Callum never seems to care much about her, or anything else for that matter, anyway.

Felicity is almost finished with her beer by the time Thea rushes in, falling onto the stool beside her with a cheeky smile. “Hi, hi, hi,” she sings, “sorry I’m late. Roy and I got tied up.”

Hiding her lips behind her glass, Felicity snorts. “I’m sure you did.”

“Oh, Felicity,” Thea rolls her eyes, “we got stuck in traffic on the way back from a farmer’s market. Not everything is about sex, you know.”

Felicity raises an eyebrow, “with you two? Most of the time it is.” To that, Thea chuckles, a brazen look passing over her face that lets Felicity know she’s right. “So,” she nods to her friend as Callum places a beer in front of her. “How are things going with you and Roy?” It’s been nearly nine months since they reconnected, for the third time since they went away to college, and it’s probably the longest the two have gone without breaking up. 

Felicity has seen all of their ups and downs, every time they’d break up and then get back together. And if it were anyone else besides Roy, she’d probably be telling Thea to just move on. Any sane person would be fair to believe that maybe things just weren’t meant to be. But Felicity knew better. She knew Thea and Roy better. No matter how many times it seemed like it was over, neither of them had ever been willing to close the door on each other, not since the day they opened it.

“Pretty good,” Thea answers with another smile. “Really good. I think it might actually be the right time for us,” she continues with a shrug, almost like she’s afraid to say it out loud. And Felicity completely understands why. 

Thea has always hoped that she would have a future with Roy, and every time they went their separate ways, she would hold on to the hope that there was still a chance for them. A someday.

“You’re both graduating,” Felicity answers slowly, “making plans for the future...has our notorious bad boy finally managed to sit still long enough to talk about it?”

“Yeah,” Thea shrugs, biting her lip. “He did. Not that any of those conversations went beyond the hypothetical...but it was nice. To know where he stands now, you know? We even talked about kids.”

Felicity coughs mid-sip of beer, and Thea scoffs at the reaction, shoving her shoulder. “Roy?” Felicity croaks, “Roy Harper? Had a serious conversation about children?” She shakes her head, grinning. “I should call Moira right away.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Thea laughs. “He was fidgeting and blushing the entire time, but we talked about it...hypothetically, in a distant future...and he’s not opposed. It’s just funny. I feel like the option, the _possibility_ of marriage and kids, all of it...that’s all I’ve ever wanted from him. I just needed to know that it was possible somewhere along the line for us, but he’d run every time it got serious enough to even think about those things.”

Felicity nods, “of course. You’ve always known what you want out of life, Thea. Even when we were kids. It’s not unreasonable of you to want to know that the person you love is at least open to it. Otherwise you’d just be wasting your time.”

“Well,” Thea sighs. “The conversation certainly wasn’t the five year plan that my mother dreams for me, but I’m happy with where we’re at.”

“Good,” Felicity smiles. “I’m glad Roy has finally matured enough to deserve you...or the _possibility_ of you,” she teases.

Thea takes a sip of her beer, something dark and bitter-looking, the opposite of Felicity’s choice. “Enough about _my_ love life,” she sets her glass down, turning to face Felicity. “Tell me what’s been going on with you. What happened with that guy in your cyber security class that asked you out?”

Felicity scrunches her nose, instantly shaking her head. “Cooper? No way.”

“Why not!?” Thea wails. “You said he was cute!”

“I said he was _interesting._ We went for coffee a few months ago. But I don’t know, I just wasn’t feeling it,” she frowns.

It was true. There was nothing _wrong_ with Cooper. They’d gone out shortly after Oliver’s going away party, and Felicity’s heart just hadn’t been in it. By the time Cooper asked her out again, she was already consumed with her long-distance phone calls to Oliver, and his text had gone unanswered.

Of course, Felicity doesn’t explain that part to Thea.

Callum comes back to them with two more beers, silently leaving them on the counter and taking their empty glasses away. The place is starting to fill up, so he simply nods to them before heading to the other side of the bar to talk to other customers.

“Hey, you know what might be fun?” Thea cocks her head to the side, leaning closer with a mischievous, signature Thea Queen glint in her eyes. “You should totally hook up with Callum.”

Felicity’s mouth pops open in surprise, her heart racing. “What?” She laughs uncomfortably. “That would be...really random. We’ve never been close.”

“That’s the point,” Thea drops her chin, wiggling her eyebrows. “Not to be cliché, but we’re on spring break, Felicity. Don’t you want to have some fun?”

Felicity frowns, “I am having fun?”

“You hung out with my mom today.”

Her frown deepens, “so?”

Thea rolls her eyes, “I’m just saying...having uncomplicated sex with someone you know...that might be a great thing! It’s Callum, so you know there won’t be strings attached. You know you won’t fall for him. And you know it will be fun. Sounds like the perfect setup. Besides, he told me that he thinks you’re hot.”

“I don’t really think I’m a ‘no strings attached’ kind of person,” Felicity huffs. “Wait. When did he tell you that he thinks I’m hot?”

Thea shrugs noncommittally, “last time we were here. And you _could_ be a ‘no strings attached’ kind of person. Have you ever tried?”

“No,” Felicity shakes her head, feeling her cheeks turn red. She isn’t a prude by any means, but she’s never been with someone that she didn’t have some kind of feelings for. And she certainly didn’t have feelings for Callum. 

“Just a suggestion,” Thea sings. “My brother’s practically a professional at meaningless sex. If he can do it without imploding, I’m sure you could handle it no problem.”

Felicity sucks in a breath, feeling a rush of nerves and heat wash over her. “What does Oliver have to do with it?” She breathes.

Obviously nothing. As far as Thea is concerned, _nothing._ But the unexpected turn of the conversation, talk of her sex life overlapping with talk about Oliver, has Felicity squirming in her seat.

Thea laughs, nudging her shoulder against Felicity’s, “nothing, just making the point that it doesn’t make you an awful person if you happen to decide to do the same.” 

“I’ll think about it,” Felicity mumbles, hoping the answer is enough to appease her friend. And she keeps her eyes focused on Callum, hoping that Thea will drop the subject. 

“Good,” Thea nods, pleased with herself. “You deserve to get your brains screwed out every once in a while. If not by Callum O’Connor, then who else could give you a few toe curling orgasms before we have to graduate and become fully functioning, boring adults?”

Felicity lets out a breath, bringing her glass to her mouth and taking three big gulps, tipping her head back. 

Apparently they’re not dropping the subject.

She can think of one person who she knows would succeed at the _toe curling orgasm_ thing, at least. She sets the glass down, feeling the effects of chugging half her beer as her head grows lighter and her stomach heavier. “You make it sound like Callum is the only guy in the city who would sleep with me.”

“No!” Thea shrieks, shaking her head adamantly. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean that you also need to be safe, you know? And Callum is someone you can trust!”

Felicity wants to laugh as her eyes roam back over to the owner of the bar. 

_Trust_ has never been a word she associates with Callum O’Connor. His tattooed covered skin, greased black hair, and cold green eyes have always told another story. Not to mention the single earring that’s always reminded her of a pirate. Not that she had anything against pirates. But _trustworthy_ probably wasn’t the first word that came to mind when thinking about them, either.

“I didn’t mean that Callum is the _only_ guy out there who would sleep with you, Felicity. I’m just saying that he’s the perfect candidate to fulfill your sexual needs.” Thea winks, “maybe awaken some hidden desires.”

She’s not sure if it’s Thea’s words, or the beer she’s been chugging, or the somewhat offensive suggestion that she needs _help_ finding someone to have sex with her, but Felicity finds herself responding instinctively. “He’s not the only person in Starling who probably wouldn’t mind ‘awakening my sexual desires.’ You just said so yourself,” she snaps sarcastically, going with her knee jerk reaction to defend herself rather than biting her tongue.

Thea’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, the question in her eyes. But Felicity pinches her lips, just waiting for it to click while she internally kicks herself for not keeping her mouth shut. “Oh, Felicity,” Thea groans. “Please tell me you don’t have a crush on my brother again.”

“I don’t have a crush on him,” Felicity quickly replies, knowing that it’s a lie and instantly feeling guilty for it. But she also understands the transparent pity in Thea’s voice. And lying looks so much better than getting a lecture from Thea about unrequited feelings. Especially when she would be _wrong._

To be fair, her crush on Oliver when she was twelve had always been a little pitiful. Back then, it had been one sided. When she had confessed her crush to Thea, it’d been something for them to giggle about. Innocent and harmless. As if she and Thea both knew that it would never be a reality. And as they’d gotten older, they stopped talking about it all together. Because up until recently, things had never really seemed to change. She was just a young girl who was infatuated with her best friend’s older brother. And then she was just a girl who cared deeply for both Queen siblings and appreciated her friendship with both of them.

Until suddenly, those feelings weren’t one-sided anymore. And maybe they never actually had been.

“Good,” Thea relaxes. “I mean, it was really cool of you to help him last night. I know he appreciated it. I just don’t want you to start pining after him again,” she laughs. “You can do so much better than my brother anyway.”

Felicity bites her lips, squaring her shoulders as she tries not to take offense to Thea’s flippant tone. She knows that her friend doesn’t mean to sound rude, but it’s impossible not to be reminded of how it felt most of her teenage years; head over heels for the always charming but never single Oliver Queen.

She’s grown so much since then. And so has he.

Deep down, Felicity knows how different things are. She’s not that girl anymore. Oliver isn’t the same, either...just like he was trying to tell her earlier. Just like he’d been showing her for the last few months.

Yet, it’s strange to talk about it with Thea; someone who knows them both so well but doesn’t know the truth. Someone who clearly doesn’t see how good Oliver is for Felicity, and she for him. 

The thing that makes Felicity the most uncomfortable though is the realization that Thea may never see it. That she might not ever understand.

“Forget it,” Felicity shrugs it off, putting on a convincing smile. “I didn’t mean it like that. Oliver and I are just friends.”

Nodding in agreement, Thea raises her empty glass to flag Callum down. “Exactly. And it’s not like Oliver is your type, right? Or that you’re his.” she smiles back, not noticing the way Felicity winces. 

“Wait,” Felicity’s smile flickers. “What do you mean by that?”

Thea gives her a strange look, as if the answer is obvious. “Uh, you’re not a shallow bitch who wants to get in his bed or use him for our family’s money. And he’s not dumb enough to even _try_ his usual games on you.”

“Wow,” Felicity raises her eyebrows, “tell me how you really feel, Thea.”

Her friend pauses for a moment, looking at Felicity like she’s speaking a foreign language. “What?” She holds her hands up innocently, “you can’t honestly tell me that you think that wouldn’t be a trainwreck! I’m proud of my brother for getting his shit together and doing well in Russia, but his personal life is far from being ready for anything serious.”

Even though Thea’s words sting a little bit, Felicity can’t help but laugh. She may not be certain that she and Oliver will live happily ever after, but she’s seen enough lately to know that he’s ready for something serious. Both professionally and personally. And it does make her feel a little better to realize how wrong Thea is about that.

“You’re right,” Felicity says anyway, having the sense not to argue with Thea about whether or not Oliver is ready for a commitment. 

“All right,” her friend straightens up. “Enough talk about boys then. I believe I have a birthday next week, and you haven’t given me a single clue as to what we’re doing for it.”

When Callum returns, he takes the glasses and replaces them silently, blissfully unaware that Thea had just been suggesting him as some kind of sexual conquest for Felicity, but his closeness still makes her blush with awkwardness.

He taps his knuckle against the bar once he’s done, “can I get you ladies anything else?”

The beer in front of her doesn’t seem like it’s strong enough for the way their night is going anymore. Felicity points to the shelf of liquors behind the bar, “two shots of whiskey? Please.”

At the words, Thea starts to giggle, dancing in her seat with an excited, “yes!”

The moment that they each down the shots, Thea asks for two more, and Felicity knows it’s going to be quite the night.

It’s been a while since she had more than a couple of beers while she was out with friends. Her senior year has been keeping her busy. And sober. If she didn’t have a test to study for or homework to do, then she usually had an early shift at the school’s IT help desk on the weekends.

But for the first time in months, Felicity doesn’t see any reason why she can’t let loose a little. Thea at least had a point about that. Besides, knocking back shots of whiskey and giggling as they catch up on each other’s lives is a much better use of their time than discussing who she should be sleeping with.

Three hours and six shots of whiskey later, Thea and Felicity are each leaning on the bar; Thea swaying on her stool while Felicity rolls an empty shot glass back and forth across the counter. The crowd is beginning to depart, the steady stream of people coming in and out starting to die down. 

“Do you remember that time we tried to camp out in the backyard?” Thea suddenly asks, breaking their comfortable silence.

“Yeah,” Felicity drawls, a slow smile pulling at her lips. “How old were we? Fourteen?”

“I think so,” Thea laughs. “We worked so hard to pitch that tent. And it only took us so long because Oliver and Tommy refused to show us how.”

It’d been their first and last adventure in “camping” and exactly the kind of night that Felicity would never forget when it came to growing up with Thea. Growing up with a warm place to make memories in. Growing up with friends she hadn’t ever really had before.

“And we didn’t even end up sleeping in that dumb tent,” Felicity snorts, remembering how long they’d struggled with the poles and pieces, and how the boys had come outside periodically to check on them, offer them water, and laugh at their failure.

Eventually, they got the tent up. And they’d been proud of themselves as they laid inside it, talking and painting their nails like any other sleepover. But then the sun had gone down. 

Once it got dark, Felicity and Thea had been too afraid to stay outside the entire night.

“That’s right!” Thea whines. “Well, to be fair, there were a lot of scary noises in those woods behind the house. I’m still convinced that I heard a bear.”

Humming in agreement, Felicity closes her eyes, leaning into the floaty, drunk feeling in her head, her limbs feeling heavier. It’s a nice feeling though. 

“We should go camping for real!” Thea squeals, shoving Felicity’s shoulder to get her attention. “It would be so fun, Felicity!” Her eyes are wide, excited at the idea.

“No, no, no,” Felicity shakes her head, her hair falling in her face. She points a finger at Thea, “we are not made for the outdoors and you know it.”

Her friend pouts, never pleased when she doesn’t get her way. “Please?”

“Nu uh.”

“Fine,” Thea groans. Then she slides off her stool, only slightly ungraceful as she steadies herself. “I’m going pee!”

“Kay!” Felicity sits up straight, turning back towards the bar as Thea dances her way to the restrooms. 

She plasters on a grin when she sees Callum. Waiting until he makes eye contact, Felicity lifts an empty shot glass from the counter, silently asking for another. 

In response, Callum shakes his head.

Felicity’s smile quickly falls as he walks closer, raising his eyebrows at her and then the handful of empty glasses in front of her. 

“I think I’m cutting you off, Felicity.” Callum speaks slowly, placing his hands on the counter and shaking his head again.

She pouts back at him, feeling like a child being told ‘no.’ At the thought, Felicity giggles, amused at that dynamic, to think that _Callum O’Connor,_ of all people, is being the responsible one and telling her she’s had enough to drink. “You don’t cut people off,” she argues anyway. “You’ve never cut _me_ off!”

With a chuckle, Callum leans closer, his eyes meeting hers evenly across the bar. Felicity’s instincts are a bit too slow to draw back, and then she’s distracted by his eyes, which are like, unearthly green.

“There’s always a first time for everything, I suppose…”

The way she’s staring at him is simply because her drunken brain is wondering how human eyes could get to be that color. They remind her more of a cat. Has she ever noticed that he has very cat-like eyes before? She doesn’t think so.

Felicity is about to open her mouth and ask if he wears contacts, but suddenly Callum reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ear, settling the mess that she’s been too buzzed to care about. And his words finally click. Felicity clocks the look on his face, the crooked smile, not just the bright green color of his eyes but the way he’s looking back at her. _There’s always a first time for everything, I suppose…_

“Oh,” Felicity gapes at him, taken aback by the flirtation vibrating from Callum, which has probably been there since he walked over, but she only catches on as his hand traces through her hair. He’s never _flirted_ before, which makes her wonder if Thea meddled...

Laughing nervously, Felicity pulls back, making herself busy by fixing her hair herself. “Um, thanks.”

His smile ticks up a notch, amused by her squirming.

“Ollie!” Thea’s voice shrieks near her ear, making Felicity jump. Her friend had just been about to sit back down, but she takes a sharp turn and abruptly throws herself at Oliver, who appears out of nowhere a few feet behind Felicity’s shoulder. “Ollie’s here!”

At the sight of him, his warm blue eyes on her, Felicity feels her breath catch in her throat. 

Oliver hugs Thea back, or rather, catches her from knocking them both over. And he looks irritated. Felicity frowns, realizing that Thea must have texted him to pick them up, and he must be annoyed by it. 

“Sorry,” she finds herself greeting him with. She knows she’s staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights, but she’s useless to stop it. “We could have called a cab.”

“No problem,” Oliver answers with a short nod in return. His eyes flicker from her, looking to Callum. And despite her intoxication, Felicity sees when his mild annoyance flashes, his eyes narrowing at the bar owner.

It takes her brain a few seconds to catch up, to make sense of the undeniable anger on Oliver’s face. At first it baffles her, still assuming that he’s pissed at the inconvenience of having to give them a ride home. But that’s never been the kind of thing Oliver would get mad about. “You don’t think you should have cut them off?” Oliver asks, his jaw clenched as he stares at Callum.

“Nah,” Callum shrugs, either not noticing or not caring about the tension in Oliver. “I was actually just telling Felicity that she should call it a night. But a little more convincing from this one, and I’m sure she would have gotten another drink.” He tilts his head to her, offering a wink that makes her blush wildly with embarrassment. Before she can respond, Callum looks back at Oliver. “You sure you don’t want a beer, man?”

The smile Oliver gives in return is tight. Forced. “No. Thank you. We should get going.”

Thea is already working on getting her coat on, happily humming to herself as she zones out from the weird little conversation that has Felicity’s eyes bouncing between the two men.

Finally, Oliver looks at her, his eyes softening. “Come on,” he says quietly, lifting his chin towards the door.

And then he holds out his hand, offering it to Felicity. His fingers grip hers as he helps her off the stool. She melts into his touch, holding his hand and glancing down at their locked fingers.

Even his _hand_ looks right when his fingers are clasped to hers. And it feels so good.

Felicity sighs, rubbing her thumb against his palm, not sober enough to care who sees.

A teetering Thea waits a few feet away, swaying to the music. Oblivious.

Oliver picks up Felicity’s coat and purse, tossing them each over his free forearm. And Felicity smiles. 

Without a word, he lets go of her hand, replacing the contact with his fingers on her lower back, skimming down her spine. Felicity shivers, and he leaves it there as they slowly make their way to the door, out to the sidewalk, and to his car. The whole time, Felicity keeps tipping her head back to look at Oliver, checking to see if he’s still upset. But as soon as they turn their backs on Callum, he relaxes. His eyes meet hers each time she searches for him; a soft smile, his hand tightening on her back, as if to let her know that everything is okay.

That he’s not upset with her. That he has her back. That he’s there for her. Just like he has always been.


	5. Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s only Felicity.
> 
> Only her eyes, looking at him with all the trust in the world. Trust that he holds close to his heart. Trust that he plans to keep.
> 
> There’s only the steady, calming sound of water, steam sticking to their skin. 
> 
> Only the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this fic is rated E, but to give fair warning, there's mostly just smut in this chapter...with a bit of plot at the beginning and end:p Thank you all so much for your continued excitement and support! This one got away from me and it's longer than I originally planned, but y'all deserve it!   
> Let me know what you think!! ;)

He’s taking the long way home.

It’s still only about a thirty minute drive from the bar back to the Queen mansion, but with the windows down and the fresh air on her face, it’s enough to sober Felicity up a little bit. Oliver’s hand on her leg also does a pretty good job of keeping her grounded. And she continuously peeks at him where he sits in the driver’s seat at her side, one hand on the wheel and the other on her.

As if she hadn’t already noticed, Oliver Queen is sexy. Unbelievably sexy on any given day. But the view of his profile as he drives, knowing that the thumb currently caressing between her thighs belongs to _him_ , is sexier than any man has a right to be.

_Or maybe she’s still drunk._

Oliver turns his head to look at her, taking his eyes off the road as the car slows to a stop. The street is empty in front of them and the red light above illuminates his face.

_Nope._

_He’s just sexy._

His eyebrow raises slightly, his lips twitching. “You’re sexy, too,” he mumbles under his breath, barely loud enough for her to hear, but she catches it. 

_Oops._

Oliver’s fingers tighten around her leg, and Felicity’s reaction is to drop her knee to the side, her mouth popping open to suck in a breath. His thumb drags across her inner thigh, slow and purposeful, slipping beneath her dress. Felicity snaps her mouth shut, her eyes locked on his.

The light changes, the glow on his features shifting from red to green, but Oliver doesn’t move for a long moment. He just watches her expression while that one finger turns her whole body to mush. “Oliver…” she whispers his name, one hundred different thoughts on the tip of her tongue. _Keep touching me. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. No, you need to drive, Oliver._

Finally, he focuses back to the road, taking his foot off the brake and continuing on their way.

Felicity lets out a shaky breath.

The rest of the way home, his hand never leaves her thigh. And it’s a strange feeling; how someone who has always made her feel safe and comfortable also has the ability to get her heart racing, to send a torrent of adrenaline and _need_ through her whole body with just one look.

Eventually, they pull into the driveway of the mansion and Oliver slows the car to a crawl until they reach the top. Only once he’s stopped the car and taken the keys out of the ignition does Oliver remove his hand. Felicity closes her legs, still feeling his warm touch on her skin. 

He looks at her one more time, resting his head against the back of his seat. “You feel okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she smiles shyly. Her eyes flicker to the backseat. After leaving Callum’s, Thea had insisted on climbing in the back of Oliver’s car, where she had laid down and fallen asleep quickly. Felicity snorts at the sight of her friend, sprawled out with her mouth hanging open and her hair in her face.

Oliver glances back at his sister and chuckles. “You two seem like you had a good night.”

“We did,” Felicity shrugs, grateful for the time with her friend, even if Thea had been unintentionally hurtful with her comments earlier about her and Oliver not being each other’s types. Actually, she’d used the word _trainwreck_...but Felicity has been friends with Thea for so long, it was easy enough to shake that off and move on. 

It wasn’t like Thea meant to be offensive, since she had no idea what was really going between them. _Felicity_ doesn’t even really know what’s happening between her and Oliver. But she can still feel the effects of the whiskey, and Oliver is sitting next to her. And for now, she doesn’t have it in her to worry about any of that.

She sighs; a small, content hum escaping her lips. Oliver’s eyes lock with hers again, slowly roaming over her face. “O’Connor seemed...friendlier than usual.”

Thanks to the nice buzz she still has going on, it takes her a second to realize what he’s talking about. To remember that strange little moment with Callum just as Oliver had walked into the bar. After those shots of whiskey, Oliver’s unexpected appearance and a thirty minute car ride with his palm on her leg...it was enough to make her forget all about Callum and Thea’s mortifying suggestion that she sleep with him. “Yeah, well...Thea might have had something to do with that,” Felicity grumbles.

Oliver cocks his head to the side, “what do you mean?”

“It’s stupid,” Felicity rolls her eyes. There’s no way she’s about to tell him that Thea had been encouraging her to have sex with Callum O’Connor. He would want to know why on earth Thea would suggest that. She and Callum had never been anything more than acquaintances, and Oliver knows that, too. 

It was random, and embarrassing, and Thea was only pushing for it because she thought Felicity needed to get laid. Which is a piece of information that certainly does not need to be repeated to the guy that she actually _does_ want to have sex with. Felicity feels her cheeks flaming at the idea of saying those words to him. _Your sister thinks my sex life is too boring. What do_ you _think?_

_No way._

Thea’s opinion that Felicity doesn’t have enough sex is strictly filed into the _girl talk_ category.

Peeking up at him, Felicity can see the curiosity on Oliver’s face, clearly intrigued by her reaction. “Tell me,” he whispers, offering a sweet, encouraging smile.

“No,” Felicity laughs, shaking her head. But then Oliver moves even closer, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Please?” He murmurs, his lip jutting out in the cutest pout.

Oliver literally _pouts_ at her _._

And it’s not fair that it successfully draws out the truth. She logs that look in the back of her mind, making a mental note that she’ll need to learn how to say no to it. “Thea thinks that I should start...hanging out with Callum.”

He blinks, “hanging out? Like she wants you two to date or something?”

“Or something,” Felicity grumbles.

Oliver raises his eyebrows, understanding. And then he clenches his jaw, reminding her of the expression he’d been wearing when she first saw him walking into Callum’s, “that’s why he was hitting on you all of a sudden? Because _Thea_ told him that he could probably get you into his bed?”

Felicity scoffs, “no. Well, I don’t know _what_ she said to him. But obviously I’m not doing that.”

“You’re not?” His voice is flat, his lips a hard line. And Felicity isn’t sure if he’s just angry about the Callum thing or if he’s actually worried that she would hook up with him.

First of all, has he met her? She’s not one for random hookups. And she never has been. He’s known her long enough to know that. Second of all, _has he met her?_ How could he possibly not see that he’s the one she’s had a crush on for all these years? Why the hell would she ignore that and suddenly be interested in _Callum?_

Once her surprise has worn off, Felicity’s eyes fly to his face, instantly narrowing. “Of course not, Oliver!”

At her outburst, Thea suddenly jolts awake, her head popping up from the backseat. “I didn’t do it!” The poor girl’s eyes are wide, startled and definitely still intoxicated. Oliver and Felicity both stiffen, angling away from each other. Thea blinks a few times, coming to her senses. “We’re home?” She slumps back into the seat, squinting up at the mansion.

“Yeah,” Oliver sighs. “Come on, I’ll walk you inside—” he barely has the words out before Thea is throwing her door open and waddling, rather gracefully, towards the house. “Thea!”

She glances back, flashing them a smile when she stops to take off her shoes. “I’m going to bed! Or to eat ice cream! In bed! And you can’t stop me!” Without the high heels, she’s definitely faster as she walks the short distance to the door.

Watching Thea stumble into the house, they both fall silent again until she’s made it inside and the door closes behind her. Then Felicity turns towards Oliver again, shifting to face him. “Listen,” she says quietly. “I don’t know what to think about all of this any more than you do. I don’t know what we’re doing, or what to expect, or how long this will last.” She looks into his eyes, seeing them soften at her words. “But I wouldn’t have spent all these months talking to you, and risking my best friend hating me, if I didn’t think that you and I could have something real. I’m not playing games with you here, so I hope you’re not playing any either. And I’m not interested in Callum.”

The car is silent for a long moment, and then he whispers back, “Thea could never hate you.”

“No,” Felicity stiffens slightly. “You’re her brother. She could never hate _you._ Me, on the other hand… I’ve seen Thea cut people out of her life for a lot less than this.” She sighs, “I lied right to her face tonight. I told her that I didn’t have feelings for you.”

Oliver rests his head against his seat, turning his face to her again. “Well, we agreed to keep this just between us for now. Until we...you know, know that it’s real,” he swallows.

_Who are they kidding?_

_Of course this is real._

Of course it isn’t going to just go away. Felicity can’t imagine her feelings for him simply fading away and everything going back to the way it was. She’s known him for half her life, and the way she feels about him has continued to deepen since the day they met. She doesn’t see that slowing down on it’s own. No...the only way to stop what’s happening between them is if they force it to stop.

“And you’re sure that…” Oliver folds his lips over his teeth, choosing his words. “You’re sure that, while this is still so new and while we try to figure everything out, you don’t want to see other people? You want this to be—um—an exclusive kind of thing?”

Felicity frowns, watching him carefully as he picks at the steering wheel in front of him. “I mean...yes.” Her eyebrows furrow, her frown deepening as she wonders out loud,“why? Is that not what you want?”

“It is, I—I just want to make sure that this whole thing with Callum isn’t some Felicity-Smoak-way of saying that you don’t want something serious with me.”

“Hey!” She objects, feeling herself getting defensive. “I’m not the one who was getting handsy with a married woman today, Oliver. If anyone needs to clarify that they’re serious about this, it’s you!”

Oliver levels her with a look, perfectly unimpressed. “Okay, first of all, _she_ was getting handsy with _me_ , and I was telling her to stop...for the third time in an hour, mind you. Second of all, I told you that you’re the only one I want to be with! Of course I’m serious about you!”

“Fine!” Felicity shouts back, tossing her hands in the air. “Well, I’m serious about you, too! So I guess we’re exclusive!”

“I guess we are!” Oliver huffs. A moment passes as they stare at each other, each of them seething. And then Oliver’s shoulders slump. “Why are we yelling!?”

“I don’t know!” Felicity yells anyway, too riled up and too buzzed to stop herself. 

She quickly opens the door and hops out of the car, just because she feels the need to slam a door and the one to his precious Porsche works nicely. Satisfied with herself, Felicity spins around, marching straight for the front door. She’s grumbling to herself, annoyed at Oliver and unable to process much else.

He stops her just as she reaches the steps, grabbing her arm and turning her back around. “Oliver!” Felicity hisses as she collides with his chest, immediately squirming to take a step back, but he holds her flush against him. Her eyes inch up his neck, over his jaw, until she meets his eyes.

And the exasperation in them is gone. The anger from moments earlier is nonexistent. 

“Felicity...you are the only woman that I want to be with,” he whispers quietly, the words so much softer than when he’d yelled it a few seconds before.

But Felicity’s irritation is still bubbling, the whiskey helping to keep her blood hot rather than calming down along with the change in Oliver’s demeanor. “You said that already,” she grumbles.

Oliver’s lip twitches, amused. “I know,” he whispers. “I just want to make sure that you’re hearing me. And I want to make sure that you believe it.” He leans in slowly, his lips pressing a swift peck to the tip of her nose. “Because it’s true. I know that you’re worried about Thea, and knowing you...a number of other things. But I promise that I’m serious about this. About you.”

Felicity remembers Thea’s words from earlier. How certain she was that Oliver isn’t ready or willing to get himself into a serious relationship.

Yet, he’s looking into her eyes, and Felicity doesn’t see anything but the truth. She can hear it in his voice. The sincerity and the _passion_ behind it.

The things they’d said, or yelled, echo in her mind. 

They’re exclusive.

He’s serious about her.

He only wants to be with her.

And there’s a tiny taste of vindication, embracing the fact that Thea was dead _wrong_ about what Oliver is or isn’t ready for.

Despite his reputation of playing games and breaking hearts, Felicity believes every word. And she’s suddenly feeling very warm, overwhelmed by those proclamations and that passion.

In a split second, Felicity is pushing up onto her toes, grabbing him by the collar, and pulling him down to kiss him.

Oliver is still for a short moment, clearly not expecting it, but he kisses her back in their next breath. Felicity moans, pushing him backwards, she has no idea where, but Oliver doesn’t seem to mind. His hands slide to her waist, and he clutches the fabric of her dress, lifting it as she continues to guide him back.

They move until his shoulders slam against the brick wall of the mansion, and Oliver grunts, pulling back slightly to see where they’d landed. If Felicity had done the same, she would’ve seen that she’d managed to steer them between two of the tall rose bushes lining the front of the house, just beneath the front porch. But she doesn’t notice, because her mind is solely focused on Oliver. She moans as her hands move on their own accord, skimming down to his waist. Then she shoves her hands beneath his shirt, hungrily touching the muscles there, pushing higher to feel his chest.

“Felicity,” Oliver mumbles, his hands moving to grip her wrists. Not to stop her but to encourage her.

It’s just like the night on the yacht; each of them getting carried away, their arousal climbing higher and higher with every touch and every kiss. And when Felicity looks up at him, meets his eyes, the feeling that washes over her is just as intense. Just as desperate. Just as terrifying as it had been the first time she kissed him. But just like that night, Oliver smiles at her with nothing but affection in his eyes. His hands move to cup her face, and she knows that he’s trying to make sure that she’s okay.

For whatever reason, that brief pause, the way he looks at her with nothing but...an emotion in his eyes that she’s not quite ready to acknowledge...it turns her on even more.

She might not be ready to say it out loud, but Oliver Queen is _hers._

She could get drunk on the look in his eyes, hoping that it’s only ever reserved for her. Tucked between the roses, with his eyes on her like that, and with her body pressed to his warm chest, it feels like such a safe little cocoon. Felicity melts into it, embracing how good it feels. 

It doesn’t happen very often that Felicity allows her carefully constructed control on things to slip. It’s rare for her to turn her brain off and let go. But hidden away with Oliver, it’s exactly what she wants to do. She wraps her arms around his neck, sighing as she kisses him harder, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth.

In response, Oliver growls. It’s a sound so reckless, so primal, that Felicity bites his lip again, harder, before sucking the spot to soothe it. “Fuuuuuck,” Oliver grits out. She leans back, but he chases her mouth, his hands moving to cup her face again, to catch her.

He turns them quickly, making Felicity dizzy for a moment as he lifts her up. He presses her against the wall, his lips still devouring, his body encompassing her even more. She moans her approval, her nails scraping over his shoulders. With his hands on her hips, Oliver slowly lifts her dress, the fabric inching over her thighs, replaced by his warm fingers. Stars dance behind her eyelids while he strokes her skin, savoring it. Felicity holds her breath, latching on to his shoulders, and she waits for his fingers to reach the place that needs his touch most of all.

Oliver slips his hand under her dress, climbing up her inner thigh. She gasps when his thumb brushes against her center. “Yes,” Felicity whimpers, opening her legs wider, giving him access. But all he does is swipe his thumb again, right where she needs the contact but it’s not nearly enough. 

Frustrated, Felicity reaches between their bodies and yanks her underwear to the side. She has very little patience as she grabs his hand and guides it towards her core, knowing in the back of her mind that she probably wouldn’t be so bold if not for the liquid courage she’d consumed at Callum’s. In that moment though, she doesn’t care. She wants Oliver to touch her. She needs to feel him pushing between her folds, circling her entrance, rubbing her clit, fucking her with his fingers until she comes just like she did that night on the yacht. And if Oliver thinks she’s in the mood for teasing, he’s sorely mistaken. 

Spreading her legs wider, Felicity moans as Oliver’s hand slides between her legs. She drops her head back against the bricks when he pushes one finger inside of her. It feels too fucking good already, and since she’s letting her body make her decisions tonight, Felicity rolls her hips, taking him in deeper.

“Oh god,” Oliver mumbles, his other hand gripping her hip, urging her to keep doing it. She’s already soaking wet, coating his skin, and Oliver quickly adjusts his hand to add a second finger. 

Felicity moans, loudly, as he shoves his fingers inside her. It reminds her so much of their night on the yacht; the way he’s touching her, how her body seems to be controlling both of them, at the mercy of her desire. She continues to grind against him, taking his fingers in deeper. And her clit suddenly rubs against his wrist, making her rock her hips even harder.

“Yes, Felicity,” Oliver breathes, pushing his fingers in, pulling them out, and pushing back in, slowly building his pace. With each thrust, he spreads his fingers, and presses against her clit with the heel of his hand. The combination is... _perfect._ And Felicity gives herself to it, moving with him, riding his fingers. 

The knot in her stomach is a welcome one, a familiar ache that’s even more intense because of how quickly her orgasm is approaching. But as soon as she recognizes how close she is, closer and closer with each stroke of his fingers, the need to come takes over completely. “Oh god,” Felicity pants, “don’t stop, don’t stop.” 

Oliver shakes his head slightly, his teeth grazing her ear. He has her pinned against the wall, her feet practically off the ground, but she still has enough leverage to push back, to rotate her hips, rubbing herself against his wrist.

Her orgasm hits her all at once the moment that Oliver curls his fingers inside her. It’s as if he and her body had come to a silent agreement. In sync with each other, letting her fall into complete bliss and holding her together at the same time. 

The pleasure is harsh and quick, a wave that crashes through her core and swells into her chest. It slowly courses up her arms, making them tingle, and down to her shaking legs. Felicity clutches onto Oliver, her walls pulsing around his fingers that she continues to ride. Her hips don’t stop, brazenly drawing out her own pleasure as much as possible.

She tries to catch her breath, neither of them moving as she comes down from her orgasm. She feels his lips on her cheek, leaving a trail of kisses to her ear, but she doesn’t open her eyes yet, enjoying the weightless sensation still flowing through her, knowing that opening her eyes will ground her again.

“You’re gorgeous when you come,” he whispers in her ear. “Well, you’re gorgeous all the time. But _especially_ when you come.”

“Hmm,” Felicity sighs when he slips his fingers out, moving her panties back into place. It’s only when she opens her eyes again that she notices her feet are off the ground. She huffs out a breath of surprise, realizing that Oliver must have picked her up as she climaxed. And he thinks she’s gorgeous when she climaxes.

With a smirk, she tips her head back to look at him, gently combing her fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry I got upset with you.”

Oliver shakes his head, “we both got a little jealous. It was silly. As long as you know that you can trust me, that’s all that matters.”

“I do,” she smiles, moving her hand from his hair, running her finger down the side of his cheek and over his jaw. It hits her that she’s never really been able to touch him like this. And now that she can, it feels so much more natural than she thought it would. He leans into her touch, lifting his chin as he looks up at her. 

“Good. Because all of my attention is kind of focused on this one girl right now, and as hot as it is when she yells at me, I’d much rather be making her smile.”

Felicity snorts, “oh, you mean that drunk mess you just had to pick up from a bar? I think you just did a lot more than make her smile.”

With a smirk, Oliver’s eyes drop to her lips. “She’s pretty cute when she’s drunk though.”

“And hot when she yells?” Felicity asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah. Sexy as hell,” he grins. Oliver lifts his hand to her hair, catching a lock of it between his fingers. He gently tucks in behind her ear, “she has this soft blonde hair...and these bright blue eyes.” His fingers slowly move to the corner of her mouth, “and perfect lips.” His eyes focus on what he’s doing, and Felicity’s mouth opens, letting him drag his thumb across her bottom lip.

“Wow, um,” Felicity squeaks, still playing along because it somehow seems easier, “this girl sounds great.” His intense focus on her face makes her fidget, and Oliver calmly loosens his grip, her body trailing down the length of his. She’s always been comfortable in her own skin. But she can’t say she’s ever had a man pay such close attention, gazing at her features like he’s drinking her in, like she’s something to be admired. Sucking in a shaky breath, Felicity forces herself not to look away, not to hide her face. And it’s a good thing she’s still pinned between him and the wall, because her legs are still unsteady. 

If Oliver senses her uncertainty, he doesn’t show it.

“Mmm,” he hums, “she _is_ great.” He pushes his hips into hers, letting her feel the hard length of his erection, the way she affects him. Felicity gasps, her fingers clutching at his shirt as her own hips instinctively grind back. He lowers his lips to her ear, his breath sending a shiver down her spine as he whispers, “I could stare at her all day, but don’t even get me started on her body. The things I’ve thought about doing to her...”

Shivering again, Felicity closes her eyes. She wouldn’t mind hearing about _those_ things. Or better yet, he could just show her. Once again, Felicity is very grateful for whiskey. Because she just might be brave enough to ask him to.

Before she can get the words out, the front door of the mansion swings open and Oliver quickly pushes her further against the wall, his body covering hers. 

Hidden in the dense bushes, they can’t be seen from the porch, since their view is obstructed, too. But her heart still begins to pound. If Thea has come to look for them, all she’ll have to do is step out into the driveway and she’d see them. Panicking, Felicity’s eyes dart up to Oliver’s, seeing that his are just as wide.

“No, no, it’s no trouble.”

Oliver’s eyebrows push together as they both recognize Moira’s voice. 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t call earlier,” it echoes from above, carrying through the air, down to the two of them. Felicity keeps her eyes locked on Oliver, not feeling any kind of relief that it’s his mother a few feet away from catching them rather than his sister. As they stand there, glued to each other and perfectly still, Moira’s footsteps cross to the other side of the porch, continuing to talk to whoever had called. But as she moves farther away, her words become unintelligible. 

After a few minutes, the muffled sound of Moira’s conversation stops. Oliver dips his head, trying to get a peek through the bushes to see if the coast is clear, but since neither of them dare to risk being seen, they stay put. 

Another couple of minutes pass, and they hear the front door open again, and then it closes quietly. 

Felicity sighs, feeling as if she’d been holding her breath that whole time, but relieved now that Moira has gone back inside. She drops her forehead against Oliver’s chest, squeezing her eyes shut. “Oh my god,” she still whispers, “that was close.”

Oliver huffs in agreement, his own relief clear, and presses a kiss to the top of her head.

Getting caught in the bushes, by anyone, would be _mortifying._ In truth, Felicity has no idea how or when she wants to tell his family that she’s _exclusively_ seeing Oliver. She hasn’t thought that far ahead yet...but _that_ is definitely not the way it should go.

They wait a little bit longer, not wanting to tempt fate again by staying there until someone else could see them, but also not wanting to rush inside and risk running into Moira in case she hasn’t gone back up to her room yet. 

“You go in first,” Oliver says quietly. “Check on Thea and I’ll uh, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Felicity nods, chewing on her lip as she picks her head up from his chest. He’s so easy to get lost in; the way he touches her, draws out a confident, insatiable side of her she didn’t even know existed, the things he says to her. But she wants to take things slow.

Well, as slow as they can manage.

Either Oliver is on the same page about that, or he simply knows that she’s not ready to spend the night with him. Since they both clearly know, if the last ten minutes are any indication, what would happen if the two of them get into bed together.

He smiles as he looks down at her, his hand reaching up to brush her hair back. And then he chuckles, tilting her chin to the side. His fingers reach for her hair again, but this time she feels him gently pulling something out. Oliver comes back with a twig, showing it to her before tossing it aside. 

She laughs too, welcoming the playfulness. 

After kissing him goodnight, Felicity makes her way upstairs, walking quietly to Thea’s room. 

She sighs once she’s safely inside, closing the door behind her without waking her friend, who is snoring, hair in her face, and a carton of ice cream on her bedside table. The carton is full, as if Thea had taken two bites of it before passing out. 

Felicity shakes her head, stripping her dress and shoes off and leaving them on a chair by the window. She isn’t as quiet when she goes into the bathroom, leaving the door open a crack while she washes her face and then brushes her teeth with the spare toothbrush she keeps there. Moving to Thea’s closet, she borrows a t-shirt and a pair of silk sleep-shorts, the first ones her hand touches, and pulls them on.

Then she settles in next to her friend, beyond ready to find sleep. With the lights already off and Thea’s gentle snoring as a familiar lullaby, Felicity closes her eyes. She drifts off quickly, and her last thought is that she didn’t get a chance to make Oliver come…

* * *

After crawling into bed, Oliver just lays there, staring at the ceiling while his body still buzzes with energy. It had barely been five minutes since he’d said goodnight to Felicity, but he can’t wait to see her again. And he knows that she’s just down the hall, only steps away from him, which makes it very hard to relax...especially after what they’d just done in the driveway.

Thoughts of her engulf his brain, and it feels like he won’t get any sleep at all. Still feeling way too wired, Oliver can’t help but replay the scene. Every noise she’d made. Every kiss. Every touch that left him wanting more.

But eventually his eyes close, and he falls asleep thinking about her. 

Spends the night dreaming about her, too.

He had forgotten to close his curtains the night before, so the sun wakes him up early the next morning. And as soon as he opens his eyes, Felicity is the first thing on his mind.

Felicity really is going to enthrall every corner of his head and heart. And yet...he wants her there. His feelings for her are already so intense. He can lose track of time just thinking about her. She belongs there. In his head and in his heart. 

Knowing that he isn’t going to get back to sleep with thoughts like that so early in the morning, Oliver rolls out of bed, dragging his feet as he heads for the bathroom. He leaves the door open, turning on the shower and letting the water heat up as he brushes his teeth. Then he drops his boxers and climbs in, closing his eyes when the hot water cascades over his head and down the length of his body.

Oliver slowly moves to put his back under the spray and instantly winces, feeling an uncomfortable pinch on his hip as the water touches it. With a frown, he twists around to find the tiny scratch. He remembers getting it; caught off guard when Felicity suddenly pushed him into the bushes and he stumbled a little too close to the rose thorns. It had barely hurt, and she’d been so caught up in the moment and eager to kiss him that he’d forgotten about it completely.

Oliver chuckles to himself as he rinses the scrape, giving it an extra moment of his attention before reaching for his body wash, pouring some into his palm.

Felicity had kissed him like she was starved for it last night, her hands all over him.

And god...he never would have expected her to be so...enthusiastic. The way she’d grabbed his hand and shoved it up her dress, urging him, taking what she wanted. _Could there be anything hotter than that?_

Fuck, it still turns him on just thinking about it.

The steam in the room is relaxing. He drops his head, closing his eyes as the water hits the back of his neck. 

It feels amazing, lulling him into the warmth. 

Oliver’s hand slowly glides down his body, brushing against his hardening cock, and he hisses. Opening his eyes, he blinks as the water falls around his head, landing on the floor and his feet. Sighing, he slowly wraps his hand around his length, his eyes slipping shut. He can’t stop himself from thinking about her...how the same fingers that he’s currently stroking himself with had been inside of Felicity just a few hours before. How she’d fallen apart as he fucked her with them, nipping at his neck, moaning in his ear, encouraging him to keep touching her. Although he was pretty sure that she didn’t realize the words that were falling from her lips. 

_Yes._

_Oh god. Don’t stop, don’t stop._

Her words ring in his ears, her gorgeous face as she moaned his name. 

His pleasure approaches quickly considering the fact that he’d been craving release since the night before.

Oliver grunts, twisting his wrist, his head tipping back. The water rushes down the front of his body, rinsing the soap off as he rubs his thumb over the head of his cock. And he’s already so close, the sensation making him squeeze his eyes shut. He bites his lip, fighting another moan, a louder one. Gripping himself harder, he pumps faster, subconsciously moving with the same speed, the same rhythm, that he’d gotten Felicity off.

He thinks about them in those bushes. The two of them against that wall while she wrapped her legs around him. Except with the warmth of the water and the satisfaction of his hand, it’s easy to imagine the scene they had made last night...just _a little bit differently._ If, instead of his fingers, he’d had another part of himself inside of her, thrusting in, bringing her pleasure as he fucked her against the wall, inspiring those sensual moans to ring out across the yard.

“Oh!”

Oliver’s eyes snap open, his focus shattering. Felicity’s voice had been circling his mind; lost in the steamy comfort of the shower and the orgasm he was moments away from giving himself. Except he knows the squeak of surprise he’d just heard was _not_ from his memories of last night...

And his whole body ignites with panic.

Sure enough, when he turns his head, Felicity is standing with the shower door open, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.

“Felicity,” his heart stops. 

Yet Oliver doesn’t move, keeping his back to her, his hand still wrapped around his cock.

 _This can_ not _be happening._

Felicity’s eyes travel down his body. And he opens his mouth to apologize, searching for the words, knowing what he had been thinking about and suddenly feeling guilty for it. She doesn’t look away. 

Actually, Oliver catches sight of her tongue slipping out to wet her lips, her eyes darkening as if _she’s_ thinking about it… 

Felicity finally meets his gaze again, her eyes unreadable, and Oliver gulps. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out, “I was just…” 

As he struggles to find the words to finish that sentence, he realizes just how embarrassing the moment is.

 _Who would_ ever _want the person that they like to catch them jerking off?_

He’s not one to get embarrassed easily, but Oliver quickly feels himself getting hotter, the steam not doing him any favors. And he really has no idea what to say. After a long moment that for him, feels like an eternity, Felicity starts to smile, her lips twitching.

_Great._

_Now she’s laughing at him._

Yet, the look on her face is more than mere amusement at his expense. The look in her eyes is still...aroused. He stares back at her, gaping, unsure if he’s ever felt more vulnerable in his life. If embarrassment is unfamiliar territory for him, then vulnerability might as well be a foreign country. But he refuses to look away.

Without another word, Felicity reaches for her tank top, pulling it over her head and tossing it on the floor in one swoop. 

Oliver’s breath hitches in his throat, his attention instantly falling to her breasts, her pebbled nipples. His mouth goes dry. He barely has a moment to appreciate the view before Felicity leans down, taking off her shorts and leaving herself as naked as he is. 

She walks towards him, her bare feet tapping against the tiles, and Oliver drinks in every inch of her. From the bright blue color of her toenails, all the way up her stunning body, to her messy, luscious hair, and her beautiful face.

_Felicity Smoak is naked. Very, very naked. In front of him. For the first time in their lives, he realizes._

The thought almost makes him choke on his tongue.

He knows it’s an important step forward. What he does next is important, too. And he knows he’s a goner.

A total goner for this girl.

“Felicity,” he gasps as she quietly steps into the shower with him. His eyes fall down her body again, taking in every inch of her in the morning light. He didn’t bother turning the lights on when he came in, having enough sunlight from the window for him to see what he was doing. But he wishes they were on, just so he could have a better view of Felicity now.

Still, as soon as she’s standing in front of him, Oliver can see the goosebumps on her body. He can see every freckle on her skin, including the one just above her right nipple that he’d never had the pleasure of seeing before. 

“Hi,” Felicity whispers, bringing his attention back to her face. 

“Hi,” Oliver swallows. She’s so gorgeous, he wouldn’t mind leaning back and just watching her, fully appreciating the sight. But then he feels her hands on his stomach, climbing up to his chest. She smiles as her fingers reach his shoulders. “Look, I’m sorry—”

Her grip tightens on the back of his neck and she pulls him down, pushing herself onto her toes at the same time. Felicity meets him halfway, pressing her lips to his.

She kisses him firmly, stopping his apology, and Oliver’s body quickly takes control of things. His head though, still hasn’t quite wrapped around the fact that Felicity Smoak is naked in his shower. 

Oliver kisses her back just as eagerly as the night before, just as eagerly as she’s kissing him now, completely aware of his heart racing in his chest.

There’s nothing between them aside from the sound of water pounding on the tiles and their heavy breaths. 

But even through all of the sensations flooding him, Oliver notices the goosebumps on her skin. Realizing that she’s cold, he spins them around, positioning Felicity underneath the stream. His hands move to her back, holding her there, his fingers following the droplets that fall down her spine as he meets her eyes. Felicity tips her head back, and Oliver watches as the water covers her hair, darkening it. With her throat right in front of him, he leans down to kiss the length of it, reveling in every little whimper beneath his lips. When he reaches her chest, Oliver groans, taking a moment to let his mouth wander across the tops of her breasts before he bends his knees more, searching lower. 

Felicity arches her back, a small hiss escaping her when he wraps his lips around one of her breasts. Oliver ignores it, sliding a hand up her body, palming her other breast. And then, experimentally, he pinches her nipple, giving it a gentle tug as he lets his teeth scrape across the one in his mouth. She cries out, louder than she has before, her body lithe. 

“Shit,” Oliver mutters under his breath, rolling her pebbled flesh between his fingers, and sucking _hard_ on the other.

It’s a sweet surprise. 

The noises she’s making that he’s never heard before. The response he’s coaxing that he’s never going to forget. The side of her that he’s never imagined he’d have a chance to see.

And it means everything to him.

Oliver makes sure to press a kiss to that freckle on her breast before he starts traveling south, moving to his knees as he kisses a path across her stomach. His hands slip down to her ass, grabbing her cheeks in each of his palms. Digging his fingers into her flesh, as much of it as he can hold, he vows to take the time to appreciate the perfection of her ass. 

Next time.

_Because Felicity Smoak is naked. In his shower._

By the time he reaches her sex, his cock is hard and aching, but the thought of tasting her makes his mouth water. Felicity gasps when he leans in and kisses her, keeping it chaste, considering where his mouth is, as he gauges her reaction. He stares up at Felicity’s face, watching her teeth sink into her bottom lip while he pushes his chin against her center.

“Oh my god,” she sighs. And he takes it as his cue. He groans as he opens his mouth, kissing her again. Felicity’s breath catches when he slides his tongue between her folds, finally tasting her.

At this point, since he’s already fallen in love with everything else about her, Oliver isn’t surprised that he instantly falls in love with this, too. He licks her again, opening his mouth more, and he’s enthralled with her taste, her arousal coating his lips. 

It’s not until he tries to pull her legs apart that Felicity stops him. Both of her hands land on his cheeks, pushing his face back.

Oliver looks up in confusion, still tasting her on his lips and desperate to dive back in. 

Felicity shakes her head, giving him a small smile and nudging him to stand. He frowns, distracted for a moment by the tiny rivulets of water that fall down her body from the showerhead above. “What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering, Felicity pulls him to his feet and turns them around, putting him under the heated spray. But Oliver only feels the water for a moment before she has him pushed against the wall, underneath the showerhead. 

He blinks in surprise, earning a breathy giggle from Felicity before her lips land on his.

The kiss is quick, with Felicity pulling away just as Oliver leans in to deepen it. Luckily she doesn’t go far, though. Her mouth traces across his jaw, nipping his chin. And it isn’t lost on him when she moves down his neck and finds a spot that he’s sure she left a hickey last night. Felicity hums, kissing the tender flesh, and he tips his head back, eagerly giving her access to leave another. 

He loves it. 

The idea of having marks on his neck, from her, turns him on even more.

Oliver groans as Felicity starts to nip at his collarbone, encouraging her to suck, his eyes falling shut and his head thumping against the wall behind him.

It’s not the most comfortable position, but he doesn’t care. Especially not when Felicity slides lower, leaving a trail of kisses down his stomach until she’s hovering just above his hardened length. He freezes as he watches her; balancing her weight with one hand on the glass door and the other on his thigh, the water falling down her back. And he forgets about everything else.

There’s only Felicity.

Only her eyes, looking at him with all the trust in the world. Trust that he holds close to his heart. Trust that he plans to keep.

There’s only the steady, calming sound of water, steam sticking to their skin. 

Only the two of them.

Felicity leans in slowly and kisses the tip of his cock. 

Oliver instantly clenches his jaw, fighting and failing to keep in a strangled moan. 

It’s all too much. What they did last night. What he’d been doing _before_ Felicity joined him in the shower. The too-brief taste of her he’d just had. And now looking down at her as she wraps her lips around his cock. “Felicity,” he grits through his teeth. She lifts her eyes to meet his gaze, and Oliver bites his cheek, reaching his hands to her face. “Fuck, yes.”

With a hum, Felicity takes him deeper, causing his hips to jerk. He curses again, forcing himself to stay still, not to thrust. There’s no way in hell he’s going to last long anyway, not when he was mere seconds from coming with his own hand. And now that it’s Felicity’s mouth...he wants her to lead him there. He wants Felicity to take control of it. Of him.

Scratching her nails against his thigh, Felicity slowly sucks on his swollen head, her other hand coming up to wrap around his cock. She grips him tightly in her fist and starts to rub, pumping up and down his length, hollowing her cheeks each time her hand touches her lips.

“Oh, Felicity,” Oliver sighs, his eyes fixed on her. He holds her head gently between his hands, guiding her, showing her the pace he needs. 

As she pulls back, she swirls her tongue over his tip, licking the bead of precum that seeps out. His hands move into her hair on their own accord, diving into the wet locks. Felicity takes more of him into her mouth, swiping her tongue across the underside of his length as she does it, and Oliver closes his eyes, giving in to the feeling.

“Fuck. That feels so good. Yeah, just like that, baby _._ ” And he can’t control his hips anymore, thrusting shallowly into her mouth. “Oh god. Oh fuck, yes.” Felicity starts to moan, and Oliver isn’t sure if it’s the words flowing freely from his lips that’s turning her on, or his fingers gripping her hair, or the fact that they’re doing this at all, but he loves it. He loves that she’s enjoying it. 

The sound of her voice vibrates against his sensitive head, igniting a fresh wave of pleasure through his body. “Felicity, I’m— oh, shit. Baby, I’m close.”

Glancing up at him, she slows her movements down, but she doesn’t stop. Instead she meets his eyes as she takes him into her mouth, inch by inch. “Oh my god,” he groans. Because it’s probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen, his cock disappearing between her lips, those warm blue eyes staring up at him, her face and hair wet from the shower behind her. She looks perfect. She _feels_ perfect.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wishes he could make the moment last longer. But then he touches the back of her throat and all of a sudden, he’s seeing stars. Felicity releases her hand from his shaft, both of her hands spreading over his thighs, her nails scratching his skin as she sucks . The tell-tale prick at the base of his spine and the tight feeling in his chest let him know that he’s seconds away from an orgasm. And there’s nothing he wants more than to follow it, but he has enough sense to lean back. Before he’s even pulled himself from her mouth, he’s reaching for his cock, ready to finish in his hand, but Felicity shakes her head. 

“Felicity, wait, I’m about to—” her teeth scrape across his length, stopping his words in his throat. She leans forward, bobbing her head faster. His hips jerk towards her, and Felicity moans in approval, opening wider until he bumps the back of her throat again.

She still doesn’t stop, and it finally pushes him over the edge. 

Oliver comes with a groan, his head dropping back against the tiles as he shoots into her warm, wet mouth, and Felicity continues to suck. His fingers unconsciously tighten in her hair, stopping her movements because it’s just too much. But he can’t help from rocking his hips at his own, comfortable pace, shuddering when she sucks on the sensitive tip.

Breathing heavily, Oliver opens his eyes and looks down just in time to see her swallow.

_Damn._

He feels like he could drop from the exhaustion of that orgasm, even though Felicity had done all the work. He’s blissed out to his core, and he wouldn’t mind laying down, closing his eyes, and processing how amazing that was.

While he’s still catching his breath, Felicity looks up, moving to lean back and sit on her feet. Oliver lazily smiles down at her, his arm feeling like jello as he traces his thumb across her cheek. She shifts her weight again, and he notices the goosebumps on her skin once again. “C’mere,” he mumbles, reaching for her hands and pulling her to her feet.

Oliver draws her close, wrapping his arms around her and walking them back under the warmth of the water. Content to stand there all day, he runs his fingers up and down the length of Felicity’s spine, pressing his body close to hers as he buries his face in her neck. Once she’s warmed up, he leans back, silently pushing her hair away from her face, letting the water land on their shoulders. 

There’s not a single thought in his mind, perfectly satisfied to do nothing but hold her, look at her, until he’d eventually have to stop. When it comes to Felicity, he never seems to stop thinking. Worrying. But in this moment, all he cares to do is feel her. Appreciate that mind-blowing orgasm with the respect and time that it deserves. Admire her. _Oh, and kiss her._

Felicity kisses him back, and he can taste himself on her lips, making him moan.

Oliver drops his head to her shoulder again, peppering her skin with kisses. 

He’ll turn the water off and carry her out of here soon. Just a few more minutes. Then he’ll take her downstairs and make her breakfast before everyone else wakes up. And make sure she starts her day as perfectly as she’d just ensured his. _Just a few more minutes here._

Felicity breaks the silence after one. “Was that—um,”

When she doesn’t finish her sentence, he picks his head up to look at her, struck again by how fucking gorgeous she looks, standing there with her hair slicked back from her face, her skin clear of make-up, her eyes a special shade of blue that pierces him in the darkened room. Not to mention that wet, gloriously naked body of hers that he still needs to spend more time with.

_Yeah, he’s definitely a goner._

It takes him a moment, his brain still foggy, to see the way she’s chewing on her lip, her fingers tapping gently on his chest. “Was that...what?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. “Incredible? Amazing?”

She cracks a smile, and Oliver grins back. “I was just going to ask if it was okay...but those adjectives work too.” 

Shaking his head, Oliver throws her a look of disbelief. “I’m sorry...did I give you the impression that I thought _that_ was just _okay_?”

Relaxing, Felicity pinches her lips together, running her hands up and over his shoulders. “No, I suppose not,” she leans closer, her arms wrapping around his neck. She keeps her eyes on him, her confidence returning as she rests mouth over his and whispers, “if I remember right, you actually said, _‘that feels so good. Yeah, just like that, baby. Oh fuck, yes.’”_

His cock twitches as she speaks, her lips brushing against his, her breasts pressed to his chest. Oliver stares down his nose at her, wondering how he could possibly want more of her already, when it was only moments ago that she’d made every fiber of him feel satiated.

“And I meant it,” he whispers back before nipping at her lip. Felicity giggles when his fingers leisurely caress lower down her back. He flashes a smile and then grabs her ass, lifting her feet off the floor.

“Oliver!” She squeals.

“I think it’s your turn,” he teases back, quickly shutting the water off and carrying her out. He pulls a towel from the back of the door and tosses it onto the sink, and then deposits Felicity on top.

“What are you…” she raises her eyebrows in understanding as he drops to his knees in front of her. “Oh,” Felicity grins, settling back against the mirror, making herself comfortable.

He doesn’t waste any time, wanting to make her come as fast and as hard as he did. And it’s not long before her legs are tightening around his face, her fingers tangling in his hair. Her hips start to rock against his mouth, her moans getting louder. She’s so wet, so responsive to his every touch...it spurs him on, sliding his tongue inside her as he grazes her clit with his teeth.

Felicity latches tighter onto his hair, lifting herself off the counter to meet his mouth, a breathy moan falling from her lips. She pulls so hard on his hair that dark spots swim in his eyes, but she’s so close to coming that Oliver doesn’t really notice the pain. He knows the exact moment it happens; her head drops back against the mirror with a thud, her mouth opens with a silent cry, and her thighs tremble around his face.

_It’s beautiful._

He keeps his pace as she comes, swirling his tongue slowly over her clit, drawing her pleasure out as much as he can. After a moment, Felicity stops him by grabbing fistfuls of his hair, yanking him away from her sex with a miserable moan.

Making his way up her body again, Oliver wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her towards him. She picks her head up from the mirror and rests it on his shoulder instead. Reaching for another towel, he covers her with it, trying to get a peek at her face but she keeps it buried in his neck. “You okay?” He murmurs, waiting until her breath evens out.

Felicity finally picks her head up from her hiding place, raking her fingers through his hair as she meets his eyes and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry I pulled your hair.”

Oliver chuckles, shaking his head. “No need for apologies,” he winks, “I liked it.”

Felicity sighs, winding her arms around his neck again. 

Without another word, he steps between her legs, hugging her tightly and pressing his nose to her hair. Felicity holds him back, her fingers tracing patterns across his shoulders. 

It’s so easy to relax in her arms, to close his eyes and match his breath with hers, not caring that the room is growing colder or that he’s still naked. 

Eventually, her hands start to wander lower, her fingernails skimming down his backside. Oliver smiles as he lifts his head to look at her. “I suppose we should put clothes on before we get too carried away again. Everyone will be getting up soon.”

Lifting her shoulder, Felicity smooths her hands across his chest, her eyes following her touch. “Mmm, you’re right. Maybe next time though, we should make sure we have time for getting carried away.”

Oliver arches an eyebrow, “I think that’s a good idea...because when it comes to you, I can’t seem to get enough.” He leans closer, rubbing his nose against hers.

“Oh,” Felicity lets out a sharp breath, her eyes fluttering shut. “I imagined you saying that under different circumstances.”

He smirks, kissing her nose, then across her cheek. “What circumstances?” He whispers in her ear.

“Huh. Well, these are pretty much the right circumstances, actually.” When she cranes her neck, latching onto his shoulders, Oliver kisses behind her ear, nibbling on a spot that he’s quickly discovering she likes. A lot.

Felicity sighs, tipping her head back to the mirror again and he’s quite certain that they’re absolutely about to get carried away again. 

“Oliver...you just said...we can’t...” 

He wraps his lips around her earlobe, sucking on it, and Felicity’s words get lost in a moan. “Hmm?” He hums innocently, knowing that he has her. 

“Oh...god. That’s...”

Felicity enjoys having her ear kissed. In fact, it seems to make her tongue-tied.

He’ll definitely have to remember that for future use.

“Hey, Ollie?” Thea’s voice calls from outside the door, and Oliver stops, his heart seizing in his chest. Felicity freezes too, letting out a tiny gasp when they hear Thea knock on his bedroom door. “Ollie!” She calls again, and then she opens it. Oliver jumps away and Felicity scrambles to fully cover herself with the towel. 

He rushes to the bathroom door, hearing his sister’s footsteps as she walks across his room. “Ollie, you in there?” She knocks on the door. Luckily, this one is locked. Not that his sister would come barging into his bathroom...but he still has to answer. 

Turning to Felicity, he looks for help, and she waves her hand at him, her eyes wide and panicked as she gestures for him to say something.

“Yeah!” Oliver chokes out. “What do you need, Thea?”

“I was just wondering if you saw Felicity this morning,” she answers through the door. “She wasn’t there when I woke up and I don’t know if she’s still around.”

“Uh, no...” Oliver calls back. “I haven’t seen her.

“Ugh,” Thea groans. “I hope she didn’t leave. We had a bit of a disagreement last night. I was kind of a jerk and I wanted to apologize.”

Oliver frowns, glancing over his shoulder at Felicity. She’d mentioned that Thea wanted to hook her up with Callum O’Connor, but she didn’t say they’d argued about it. “I don’t know, Thea. Check downstairs I guess.”

She doesn’t answer, but he can hear her walking away, his bedroom door shutting behind her. When he turns around, Felicity is already half-dressed, picking her clothes up off the floor by the shower where she’d dropped them. “Hey,” Oliver whispers, sensing the tension in her body as he steps closer. “It’s fine, Felicity. I’ll sneak you out. Just tell Thea you wanted to use a guest bedroom to shower so you wouldn’t wake her up.”

“I don’t like lying to her,” Felicity whispers back.

“I know,” he sighs. “But it’s going to be okay. Whenever the time is right and we decide to tell her...she’ll understand.”

By the way Felicity looks away from him, her lip caught between her teeth, he knows that she’s not so sure of it. “We really can’t keep this up forever. It’s been two days and we’ve already almost been caught by Moira twice. Now Thea. We’re very, very bad at this.”

Oliver offers a reassuring smile, watching as she pulls her shorts over her hips. “I agree. Maybe if you could keep your hands off me, we’d be better at it.”

At his teasing tone, her shoulders slump, her lips twitching with a smile. But she still narrows her eyes, “based on last night and this morning, you kind of have a point. And I hate it.”

“Woah, easy,” Oliver shakes his head, “I’m not saying you should _stop_ jumping me in the driveway or surprising me in the shower...but I don’t want to have to sneak around forever, either.”

“Right,” Felicity answers lowly. Her eyes drop down his body, shamelessly focusing on his cock. “Although...it’s not like we’re hurting anyone, right? I mean, for now, it _is_ kind of hot?”

Oliver swallows, staring at her face while she continues to stare at his hardening dick. And he quickly forgets all about their _three_ close-calls since he arrived home. “It is.”

Finally, she looks back up at him. “I should go...find Thea.”

“Let me just check that the coast is clear,” he nods, taking the towel off the sink and wrapping it around his hips. Then he takes her hand and walks out into the room, Felicity trailing behind. When they reach the bedroom door, he opens it slowly and sticks his head out, listening as he glances up and down the hall. “Okay,” he whispers, opening the door wide enough for her to leave. “All clear.”

Felicity squeezes his hand before dropping it, her own eyes searching the area to make sure. She takes a step into the hallway, working on tying her wet hair into a low bun as she mumbles something to herself about having a terrible poker face.

“Oh!” She spins back towards him, retracing the steps to his door and pushing onto her toes to kiss him. It’s short, but sweet enough to get them both grinning like idiots. “Bye,” Felicity says quietly. “Call me later.”

“I will,” he promises, waving as she walks away from him. He stands in his doorway long enough to hear Thea greet her on the stairs, and then he closes it, already thinking about making a plan for that date.

_Total. Goner._


	6. Certainties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They could stop. Slow down. Talk about it. They could wait for as long as they wanted.
> 
> But it would always come back to this. The rush she feels every time he kisses her.
> 
> No matter what, there would always be that.

Getting some work done in his room, Oliver gives himself an hour before going downstairs. He doesn’t want to put Felicity or himself into an uncomfortable moment where they’d have to lie to Thea, so he figures that a bit of avoidance is probably best. By the time he heads for the kitchen, he’s hoping that at least Raisa is up to help buffer the inevitable awkwardness.

Unfortunately, he finds the room empty, a plate stacked with Raisa’s cranberry-orange muffins on the island in the middle of the room. With a frown, Oliver walks over and takes one, biting into the warm bread and again, acknowledging that his time in Russia gives him a special appreciation for Raisa and her superior cooking skills.

He looks out the window, disappointed to see that his dad is out on the patio, reading the paper and drinking his coffee. He’s never thrilled if he has to deal with his father first thing in the morning, but Felicity definitely put him in good spirits earlier. Raisa is behind Robert, tending to the flowerbeds by the pool, and Oliver lifts his hand to wave when she notices him.

With a sigh, he finishes his muffin and heads outside, shoving his hands into his pockets as he approaches the table. “Morning, dad.”

Robert lowers his newspaper, squinting up at him through the sunlight. “Hey, son. How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” Oliver nods, “nice to be back in my own bed.”

“I’m sure,” his father smiles. “Well, I have a few meetings this afternoon and tomorrow morning. But I was thinking you could stop by the office around 2:00 tomorrow. We can go over some of the things you’ve been doing in Russia. Tell me what’s working and what’s not. Fill me in?”

_ Sure. As if Isabel doesn’t give him hourly updates anyway. _

“Okay, dad,” Oliver answers anyway, pinching his lips together. “Sounds good.”

He’s already turning to walk away, knowing that when it comes to him and his father, that was plenty for the day, enough of a conversation to keep them both comfortable until they needed to speak again.

“Oh,” Robert stops him. “And you’re taking Helena Bertinelli out to dinner on Friday night.”

Cocking his head to the side, he looks back at his dad, the words processing. “Excuse me?”

“She wants to meet with you before she and her husband sign on the Unidac merger...thinks you have some insights that she’d like to explore.”

By the look on his father’s face, they both know that isn’t the truth.

Zachary Ames had been prepared to work with QC before their lunch at the country club. The whole point of  _ that  _ was to reinforce the deal. And if Zach or Helena were still having doubts, Robert would not be as relaxed as he is right now. He also wouldn’t look so  _ amused  _ that one of their partners only wants to meet with Oliver and not him. That’s the kind of thing that would get under Robert’s skin. If they both didn’t already know that it isn’t  _ business  _ Helena has in mind.

It’s pure irritation that brings Oliver to spit back, “I’ll pass.”

“Eh, eh,” Robert shakes his head. “Son, Mrs. Bertinelli owns forty percent of that company. If you offend her, there will be drama that I don’t have the time or patience to deal with. Do you understand?”

He stares at his father for a moment, not caring to hide the disgust on his face. “So you expect me to take a married woman out to dinner, which sounds more like a date than a business meeting, because you don’t want to  _ deal  _ with any backlash that my rejection might cause?”

His father makes a face, “what’s the problem, Oliver? I didn’t expect you to be opposed to sharing a meal with a beautiful woman.”

“I’m not,” Oliver huffs. “I just—what does her husband think of this?”

To that, Robert smirks, “he’s the one who called this morning to tell me to extend the invitation.”

_ Of course he was. _

_ That pretentious prick. _

But if Robert wants him to go and Zach doesn’t have a problem with it either, what excuse does he have? He and Felicity had literally just come to the agreement the night before that they weren’t going to see other people. She trusts him. There’s no way he’s about to throw that away. And he’s quickly realizing that Felicity has a bit of a jealous side, so he’s not about to tempt that, either. Maybe it’d be fun to tease her about it eventually...but not when things are so new and unstable between them.  _ Oh no, she definitely won’t like this. _

So, he’s not doing it.

“All right then,” Oliver shrugs, since he can’t tell his dad ‘no’ without giving him a reason. And the reason is Felicity. Which he also can’t admit. He’ll just have to come up with something later to get out of it. 

After leaving his dad, Oliver checks around the house for Felicity and Thea, knowing he should let Felicity know about the dinner before Robert mentions it in front of her or something. With everything being so messy, he just wants to make sure his bases are covered. The last thing he wants is another misunderstanding like what happened at the country club.

He doesn’t find them, but when he walks back into the kitchen, he notices a napkin hanging on the fridge by a magnet. Thea’s favorite form of communication; she can let Moira and Robert know what she’s up to, but they can’t respond until they read the note. Usually by then, she’s already off to wherever she wants to be. It worked well for her throughout her teenage years, and their parents were much easier on Thea, because unlike him, at least she  _ told  _ them what she was doing.

Now that she’s an almost-college-graduate, the notes aren’t really necessary, but Thea still keeps up the habit.

With a sigh, he pulls the napkin off the fridge and reads it:  _ Beach day with Felicity. Be back later. _

Putting it back where he’d found it, Oliver opens the door and pulls out a bottle of water. His morning with Felicity had left him with plenty of energy, and his conversation with his father had left him with plenty of irritation. 

A run should take care of both.

Oliver uses the time to clear his head; not bothering with music for once, deciding to listen to the steady slap of his feet against the pavement instead. He hadn’t done his usual route since he left for Russia. But he has run it so many times that he can let his feet carry him through each turn, focusing on his surroundings, the trees and the neighborhoods, rather than where he’s going.

When he gets back home, he takes another shower, which undoes all of his work with that run in ten minutes, because he spends the whole time thinking about Felicity being in there with him. Then he has a conference call with Isabel and Curtis, discussing their ideas for Mr. Rowe’s investment and the best plan to utilize it for more of a profit. Curtis suggests getting involved with a charity, which Isabel scoffs at but Oliver loves. As his colleague rambles about how the branch could use a boost, and donating to a good cause would help their image and their reach, it’s obvious that he manages to convince Isabel. Even if her cold heart doesn’t like it, she can see that it’s a good move.

After that, he does a few errands and picks up lunch.

Felicity texts him as he’s walking out of Big Belly Burger:  _ Hi. What are you up to? _

He sends her back a picture of his takeout bag with a winky face.

Felicity:  _ Again? You’ve only been home for a couple of days. _

Oliver:  _ I make no apologies. I’ll be eating as many of these burgers as I can for the next two weeks. _

Felicity:  _ You’re going to make yourself sick. _

Oliver takes a sip of his soda as he walks to his car, typing back:  _ That’s a risk I’m willing to take. How’s the beach treating you? _

In response, she sends him a picture that almost makes him drop his drink. He notices her legs first, stretched out in front of her, her feet covered in sand with her painted blue toenails sticking out. Felicity’s stomach barely makes the picture, but she manages to show off her bright pink bikini, her hand holding the strings at her hip, keeping it from leaving tan lines. He notices the great view of the sea and sky beyond that, too. “Damn it, Felicity,” he mumbles to himself, realizing that he’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. After forcing himself to get back in his car, Oliver texts back:  _ That’s a nice view. I’m jealous. _

Felicity: _ You should be. The picture doesn’t do it justice.  _

Oliver:  _ As someone who has had the hands-on experience...I assure you, the picture is perfect. _

Felicity:  _ Are you sure? _

Oliver:  _ Positive. _

Felicity:  _ Well, I know you mentioned that you wanted to go out on a date tonight with a fancy restaurant and me in a dress, but I was thinking…maybe you should come over instead. We could just hang out. No pressure. And you can get another hands-on experience. Just to make sure it’s as perfect as the picture. _

He’s pretty sure he’d be agreeable to anything if she’s the one suggesting it. Although he is a little disappointed that he won’t be seeing her all dressed up, sunburnt from a day at the beach is just as perfect. 

Oliver:  _ Sounds great. What about your mom? _

He hasn’t spent very much time with Donna Smoak, despite how long he’d known Felicity. When Felicity was younger, she spent a lot of her time at their house to get a break from her mom, since it’d been just the two of them. And then Lance happened...and then they stopped seeing Donna as much. Felicity just kind of started doing her own thing as she got older, and Donna did the same. Felicity didn’t talk about her that much anymore, at least not to him, but from what he remembers, Donna is a little intense. And kind of out there. And very nosy.

One thing he does know, though, is that Felicity’s mom is incredibly important to her. So spending time with her, with the two of them, is an intimidating idea.

Felicity:  _ She’s going out with some friends tonight. Come by around 8:00. _

_ Or not. _

* * *

Despite the fact that she’d applied three layers of sunscreen throughout the day, Felicity could already feel the effects of a sunburn on the drive home. 

Thea invited her over, but Felicity declined, telling her that she wanted to go home, take a shower, put some aloe on her shoulders, and crash early. Everything was true except for the last part, at least. Because Oliver is coming over.

She can’t remember the last time he’d been to her house. Probably not since before she entered high school; when he’d give her and Thea rides home from soccer practice and her mom would invite them inside for ice cream.

So, a while.

But it’s fine. 

Much better than hanging out at the mansion...which would practically be impossible unless she wanted to park her car down the road, sneak in and out of his room, and run the risk of being seen by Thea, his parents, or the numerous staff members who loved to gossip.

_ Nu uh. No way.  _ Her place is so much more simple. And if her mom comes home, well, it shouldn’t be too hard to get him out of her bedroom window.

Once Thea drops her off, Felicity treats herself to a long shower. She braids her hair and puts on some makeup that she hopes will distract from the pinkness on her cheeks. There’s still plenty of time before Oliver comes over, so she settles in with a snack, planning to get some homework done since she has no idea what she’s doing the rest of her spring break or how much time she’ll have for it. 

Her mom leaves a little before 7:00, and Felicity doesn’t see the point of waiting another hour. Plus, she’s hungry. She picks up her phone, still not wanting to seem too eager as she texts him:  _ I’m about to have sushi delivered. Does that sound okay? _

Oliver:  _ Sure, whatever you’re having is fine. Did your mom leave already? _

Felicity:  _ Just walked out the door. _

Oliver: _ I’ll be over in twenty minutes. _

She grins down at her phone, a small, nervous flurry of butterflies in her stomach. Over the years, she’d spent plenty of time with Oliver, even alone, and it had always been fine. But they’d always just been friends. She can’t think of a time when they’d intentionally gone out of their way to spend time together. Just the two of them. Of course, they’d done a few _other_ things that people who are just friends don’t typically do, but this is different. 

This is Oliver Queen coming to her mom’s house while she’s in sweatpants to eat sushi and watch a movie.

Unless he thinks it’s just a booty call.

_ Oh god. _

Felicity freezes, her eyes dropping to the texts they’d sent earlier in the day. 

Yep, it definitely sounded like she’d only meant a booty call. Mom won’t be home. Hands-on experience. Sure, she had every intention of fooling around with him...but maybe his idea of a girl inviting him over is different than what she’d had in mind. Is he expecting sex? Oh no, should she be wearing something sexier? Sweatpants aren’t very sexy. Is she supposed to greet him at the door in her best lingerie like girls did in movies?

“Ugh,” Felicity groans to herself, abandoning her homework on her desk and walking to the closet. She isn’t quite sold on the lingerie thing, but after thinking for another moment, she decides to put on a pair of jeans and a black tank top, leaving her feet bare. It doesn’t scream, ‘hey, I’m ready to have sex tonight,’ but it’s also better than the sweatpants that she’s pretty sure she got some Cheetos powder on earlier.

Just because she’s known him since she was twelve doesn’t mean she has to act like they’ve  _ been together  _ since she was twelve.  _ Seriously, what had she been thinking? _

Shaking her head, Felicity sits back down at her desk, calling in their dinner first and then focusing on finishing the last equation of her homework, wanting to have it done by the time Oliver shows up.

He knocks on the door twenty minutes later, as promised, just as Felicity is putting her books into the backpack hanging from her chair. “Coming!” She yells, all but skipping from her bedroom to the front door.

Felicity swings the door open, greeting Oliver with a smile that he instantly returns. “Hey,”

“Hi,” he answers. 

“What’s that?” She points to the brown bag in his arm. “I ordered dinner, remember?”

Oliver shakes his head as he passes her, walking over to the kitchen and dumping the contents of the bag onto the counter. “It’s not dinner. It’s snacks.”

“I see that,” Felicity laughs, looking at all of the options; mostly chips and junk food. “Oh,” she looks up at him, her hand stopping on one of the bags. “Chocolate covered pretzels?”

“Of course,” Oliver rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t going to show up with snacks and not bring your favorite.” He takes the bag from her hand, opening it up and taking a pretzel for himself before holding it out to her. Stepping closer, Felicity reaches her hand in and takes a couple of the pretzels, and Oliver points his index finger at her nose. “You got a bit of sun today, huh? Your nose is looking a little red, Rudolph.”

“Hey,” she swats his hand away. “You’re one to talk, mister...mister…” Felicity looks him up and down, searching for something to tease him back about. She pauses when she notices what he’s wearing. Gray sweats and a black t-shirt. “Sweatpants?” She tries not to laugh, but her amusement is clear.

“Well, yeah,” Oliver throws her a confused look. “That’s the best way to enjoy a night of movies and eating junk food on the couch, isn’t it? Unless you had something else in mind...did you want to go out? Because in that case, I’ll probably need to change. And I’m an idiot.”

“No, no,” Felicity chuckles. “That sounds like exactly what I had in mind.”

“Good. So...what’s with the jeans?”

Shaking her head, Felicity pushes up onto her toes to kiss him. “Have I told you lately how perfect you are?”

“No,” Oliver grins back. “Tell me more.”

“After I change out of these jeans,” Felicity laughs. Tossing him a wink, she gestures to the couch, inviting him to make himself comfortable as she heads back to her room. 

Quickly pulling on a pair of pajama pants; ones that Oliver has seen a dozen times when she’s slept over Thea’s, that have llamas and succulents all over them, but do  _ not  _ have traces of Cheetos, Felicity grabs a blanket off her bed and heads back out. 

Oliver smiles, looking her up and down from where he sat in the middle of her couch. “Much better.”

“Agreed.” She settles in beside him, draping it over her lap. “So…”

“So…” Oliver chuckles, his eyes moving around the room. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here.”

Felicity nods, “it looks exactly the same, I’m sure.”

“It does,” he smirks. “I always liked it here. Do you remember how your mom used to feed you and Thea those massive ice cream sundaes after soccer practice?”

“Yeah,” she scoffs. “And she could never convince you to eat one.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow, “I didn’t need my own when I just ended up eating whatever you and Thea couldn’t finish.”

“That’s true,” Felicity laughs. “I always felt so bad that she forced you to come in every week,” she rolls her eyes, ducking her head. “That was...embarrassing. And it’s my mom, so, you know, she was usually pretty over the top.”

“Are you kidding?” Oliver snorts. “I looked forward to it. I’d volunteer to take you home just so I could be here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he answers as if it’s obvious. “The guys at school used to give me so much crap about it.”

And it’s funny… that it had never occurred to her before. That she’d never asked why he wanted to give them rides back from practice every week, even when Quentin had offered to start driving them. “But...why?”

“I don’t know why I was so adamant,” he shrugs. “I just knew I wanted to. It was fun. I liked having that time with Thea. I liked being around your mom, because let’s be honest, she’s like the total opposite of mine. And I liked hearing you ramble the whole way home about all the physics behind soccer.” 

Felicity beams back at him, knowing that at the time, it’d been innocent enough. But with the way things have changed between them, it’s sweet to think that even then, Oliver would go out of his way just to spend some time with her. With her mom. In  _ their  _ space. “All right,” she clears her throat, resisting the sudden urge to kiss him. “So, what do you want to watch?”

His eyes stay locked with hers, but he doesn’t answer.

“Food will be here any minute.”

“Okay,” Oliver nods, his smile pulling up at the corner of his mouth. “I’m fine with anything, but I’m also prepared for your evil plan to make me sit through The Bachelorette with you.”

“Wow,” Felicity feigns surprise, even though that idea had absolutely crossed her mind a few times earlier in the day. She didn’t watch a lot of television, but for whatever reason, that show sucked her in. And she’d been patiently waiting for spring break so she could finally have time to catch up and find out who Hannah B. would choose. “I was going to let you pick a movie to watch, but now...reality TV binging sounds  _ perfect .” _

He throws her a look that says ‘you were never going to let me pick a movie and we both know it’ and Felicity giggles. Settling back on the couch, she turns the TV on, content to curl up with him and focus on something other than her own life and her own worries for a while.

Oliver rolls his eyes when she starts the episode, tucking her feet under his thigh and pulling a pillow onto her lap. “The smartest person I know,” he mumbles, resting his hand on her leg, “and she has the worst taste in entertainment.”

It’s not long before their dinner arrives, and not much longer after they’ve finished eating that Felicity realizes Oliver has stopped making fun of the show and heckling the contestants. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye, keeping her head straight so he doesn’t notice her watching him. She has to bite her lip to keep from laughing when she sees him staring at the screen, completely absorbed. 

By the season finale, he’s invested. And Felicity can’t hold back her laughter when she hears him mumble, “what is Hannah even  _ thinking  _ with Jed?” under his breath. As she continues to giggle, Oliver turns to glare at her. “You can laugh at me all you want, but he’s shady and I don’t trust him. Tyler is clearly the right guy for her.” 

“Agreed! He’s got that whole reformed bad boy thing going on.”

Oliver chuckles, his hand climbing up her leg where she has them strewn over his lap now. “So...you have a type, is what you’re saying.”

Felicity pauses, registering his words. A grin slowly pulls at her lips as she asks, “you think you’re a bad boy?”

“Reformed,” he clarifies.

Unable to hide her amusement, Felicity shakes her head. “You know I never really saw you that way, right?”

He looks into her eyes, and she stares back, letting him see the truth of her statement. He’d done his fair share of partying, sleeping around, and acting like an idiot. But he’d never been  _ bad. _ He’d never been hurtful. At least not on purpose, since he couldn’t exactly be blamed for the childhood angst that came with having a crush on your best friend’s older brother.

Oliver doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body. He has always been kind to her. To _ everyone _ . In that sense, she’s always known that she wasn’t an exception to the rule, even though she sometimes wished that she was.

“I’ve made some pretty stupid mistakes,” he whispers. And Felicity can read him like the back of her hand. The tone in his voice. The way he straightens his shoulders. The look in his eyes that seems to add,  _ ‘and I don’t want to make any more of them.’ _

Felicity shakes her head, her eyes softening. “Not with me you haven’t. The way I see it is...if we’re really going to do this, with the history that we share, we need to have a clean slate. No...no judging each other for things that happened before we decided to be together.”

Of course, she wishes that he could have realized his feelings for her sooner than that going away party. Of course, it had hurt to see him dating other girls as they got older. And of course, she couldn’t excuse the  _ how  _ and the  _ why  _ when it came to his reputation for being a player. But she knows that things are different with her. She knows that he’s telling her the truth. And she knows that he cares just as deeply about her as she cares for him.

So why wouldn’t they both deserve a clean slate?

* * *

The sun had gone down hours ago, but neither of them bothered to turn the lights on, leaving the room with only the glow from the television. 

Although, the television was long forgotten. The show had ended over an hour ago, but Felicity had no idea who Hannah ended up picking because Oliver had started kissing her neck.

Eventually his lips had travelled downward, caressing her chest. And he’d slipped his hand under her shirt, cupping her breast. In a matter of minutes, Oliver had turned her into a moaning, breathless mess. 

She couldn’t quite remember when she’d climbed on top of him, but it was shortly after he’d mumbled something about how much he loved her ass. As soon as she was on top of him, he’d reached for it, chuckling when she pressed her hips back into his hands, urging him to grip harder.

And now she can feel the thick length of him under her stomach, her body grinding down shallowly, lost in the groan of pleasure he gives her.

“Um,” Felicity gasps, suddenly pulling back. Her hands are already diving for his waistband, impatiently pushing beneath his sweats. “Do you have…?” She trails off, looking down at him expectantly. 

Oliver raises his eyebrows, her words clicking as he stares back. “Uh, yeah. Yes, I do. In my wallet I–are you sure?” 

Pausing, Felicity considers the question. It’s not like it would be her first time, but it would definitely be the most  _ meaningful  _ time. With him. But...things are already complicated enough. Would sex just complicate it even more?

Oliver’s thumb brushes across her cheek, his eyes amused as he lets out a breathy chuckle, watching her. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to do.”

Felicity sighs, hating that she even hesitated. She could probably make a list of reasons why things wouldn’t work out between them. But sleeping together couldn’t possibly be one of them.

It’s  _ Oliver. _

Shaking her head, Felicity pushes off of him and stands up. “Hey,” he objects softly, his arms reaching for her as he sits up. She doesn’t respond, heading into the kitchen and grabbing his wallet off the counter. Her hands are a little shaky as she opens it and pulls out the condom, dropping his wallet on the floor by the couch. 

Felicity can feel his eyes on her the whole time, but she doesn’t meet his gaze until she’s climbing onto his lap again. Holding the condom up, she lowers her face, her nose hovering inches from his. She opens her mouth to speak, but the look on his face is so adorable, like a hopeful puppy, that she can’t help but grin. 

Oliver lets out a sharp breath as she rubs her nose against his. 

“I want to,” Felicity mumbles.

“Well then…” he meets her eyes, his lips barely brushing against hers as he speaks. “I think we’ll need a bed for this.”

Before she can move, Oliver stands up from the couch, taking her with him. She squeals in surprise, scrambling to hold on without dropping the condom. Felicity giggles when he quickly starts making his way towards her bedroom. “The bed, huh?” She teases in his ear. “I always imagined you were more creative than that, Oliver.”

“Next time...” he answers lowly, “we can do this on any surface of your choosing. But tonight, I want a bed.” His lips land on her neck, and Felicity’s breath catches in her throat, already imagining the things he plans on doing to her in that bed. Since he seems like a man on a mission, she assumes that he has an idea in mind. His beard scratches her skin while he rounds the couch, heading down the hallway without missing a beat.

They pass the kitchen, and she fully expects him to make a beeline for her door at the end of the hallway, but he surprises her when all of a sudden he stops, his lips still on her throat. Oliver turns, his footsteps slowing as he presses her against the wall. “Oh god,” Felicity moans, arching her back and tilting her head to give him more access. 

Holding her against the wall, Oliver leans forward, his mouth tracing down to her chest and then back up, his hips rocking against hers the whole time until  _ she’s  _ the one who can’t wait any longer to reach the bed. “Move, Oliver,” she grits out, her nails digging into his shoulder.

“I am moving,” he replies, his voice gruff. 

Suddenly, Oliver thrusts harder, putting pressure right against her core and pinning her between him and the wall at the same time. Felicity releases a loud, desperate moan, her own hips rolling back, her body begging him to do it again. To keep touching her. To keep taking her higher. Because it feels... _ so good. _

“Please,” she blurts out, both of her hands clambering across his back, trying to pull his shirt off and almost dropping the condom in the process.

Oliver groans, thrusting again, his breath on her neck growing heavier.

Felicity manages to free him of his shirt, discarding it with a sigh of relief as she clings to him again, his chest warm. He’d had her in the same position less than twenty four hours ago, hidden in the bushes in front of the mansion. And yet, this feels different. The previous night had been hot, of course, but they’d both somehow known that it wouldn’t go any farther than it did. But now, she’s not even sure she’ll be able to make it to the bedroom before she takes his clothes off.

Because the bottom line is...she wants this. 

She wants  _ him _ . 

And they’ve had years of buildup that’s been leading them right here. To this. They could stop. Slow down. Talk about it. They could wait for as long as they wanted. 

But it would always come back to this. The rush she feels every time he kisses her. 

No matter what, there would always be that.

There was no denying it.

Her lips are on his shoulder, alternating between soft kisses and tantalizing bites. And she can feel the heavy weight of him between her legs, the anticipation almost driving her mad. She’s lost in it, drunk on it, not realizing that he’s stopped rubbing against her. 

Oliver’s hands fall from her hair, “your phone.”

She keeps nipping at his skin, pulling him back towards her. “What?”

“Your phone,” he repeats. “Felicity, your phone is ringing.”

Once he says it, she can hear the quiet, familiar ringtone coming from the kitchen. She blinks, debating for a split second. And then she grips her fingers tighter against the back of his neck, angling his face back to her throat. She bites down on his shoulder, harder than before. “Leave it.”

For a moment, he gives in, sucking on her skin in retaliation. But then her stupid phone starts to ring again, and Oliver pulls back to look at her. Without a word, he pulls her off the wall, hoisting her on his hip and carrying her back to the kitchen like she weighs nothing. She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t object since he doesn’t bother to stop kissing her.

Oliver sets her on the countertop next to her phone. “Answer it,” he whispers, his face still hidden in her neck. “Tell them you’re busy so they stop calling.”

Felicity sighs, grabbing her phone as she opens her legs wider, accommodating him. 

_ Bet your damn ass this would be a quick conversation. _

Not recognizing the number, Felicity frowns. “Hello?”

“Um, Miss Smoak?” A woman’s voice answers.

“Yes...who is this?”

“Tara Underwood. I’m the bartender at Verdant.” Felicity pauses, listening to the noise in the background. “You’re the emergency contact on your mom’s phone.”

Oliver suddenly freezes at the same moment Felicity does, hearing the woman’s words. “What—” her heart sinks. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, oh god, yeah, sorry!” Tara Underwood quickly apologizes. “She’s here. Drunk...and she asked me to call you. If it was anyone else I’d just be kicking them out of here. But your mom and her friends usually come here and I like her a lot. I’ve just, uh, never seen her get this hammered. I’m going to call her a cab but she asked me to let you know that she’s leaving the car in the parking lot.”

“Where is she?”

“Passed out in my boss’s office.”

Felicity presses her hand on Oliver’s chest, and he takes a step back, helping her off the counter. Then he turns away, heading into the other room. “Don’t bother with a cab. I’m on my way,” she clips at the bartender before hanging up the phone. “Oliver, I’m sorry. Would you mind…” 

He returns a moment later, wordlessly pulling his shirt back on. She lets out a deep breath, seeing that his phone and keys are in his hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

There are a hundred questions circling through her mind as they leave the house and drive to Verdant. It’s been years since her mom got better, and she has no idea why that would change now. When they spoke earlier, Donna said that she was going out for drinks with her girlfriends, something that she did once or twice a month. So what happened that turned a night of catching up with friends into a night that had the bartender calling her because her mother was too drunk to drive home? And why would her so-called friends just leave her there?

Felicity stays quiet while Oliver drives, worrying about her mom.

It brings up too many things. Bad things. From a harder time in her life that she’d been happy to put behind her. When she was just a kid trying to take care of her mother and not wanting to tell anyone, especially the Queens, how bad things had gotten at home. But she and Donna had gotten through it. Just like they got through her father abandoning them and everything else they’d been through. 

Eventually, everything went back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be. By the time Felicity was in high school, things had gotten better. They weren’t perfect, but her mom’s rough patches became less and less frequent and she’d learned better ways to cope with her emotions rather than let them swallow her for days on end.

Oliver pulls into the parking lot of Verdant, and Felicity tells him to wait in the car, giving him a tired look when he immediately starts to object. Thankfully, it doesn’t take more than that to make him listen, and he leaves the car running as she heads into the bar.

It’s mostly empty inside, which Felicity takes as a merciful sign, considering the fact that it’s not even midnight and the place is usually crowded with horny party-goers. She makes eye contact with the bartender, a beautiful redhead who rocks multiple face piercings better than anyone she’s seen before. The woman smiles as Felicity approaches, her eyes narrowing as she points a finger at her. “You must be Felicity. I’m Tara.”

Nodding, Felicity glances around. “Where is she?”

Tara lifts her chin to a middle-aged man sitting at the bar, tapping the countertop with her knuckles to get his attention. “Ralphie, can you keep an eye on things for a few? I’ll be right back.” The man just waves her off, muttering something under his breath, and she smiles. “Thank you, sweetheart. Next round is on the house.” She turns to Felicity, the smile still in place. “Come on, your mom’s back here.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, following the bartender through a side door and into the kitchen. Tara gestures to a back room, flicking on the lights as they enter. And Felicity instantly feels a pang in her chest at the sight of her mother, sprawled out on the couch, a small blanket covering her and a trash can by her head that luckily doesn't look like she’s used.

“Mom,” Felicity speaks loudly, stepping closer. Pity quickly turns to anger. Because she thought they were past all of this. She grabs Donna’s purse, tossing it over her shoulder and biting her tongue as she looks down at the older woman, her hair a mess and her makeup smudged. “Mom!” She calls louder this time, finally jolting her awake.

Donna blinks in confusion, her eyes adjusting to the light. She looks up at Felicity and frowns. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

“Taking you home,” Felicity mutters, leaning over to pull her onto her feet. Donna isn’t quite as steady in her high heels as she usually is, but they manage. Keeping her head bowed, she glances at Tara. “Do you have a back exit?”

“Yeah,” the girl nods, leading them back through the kitchen. 

“Oh, honey,” Donna leans on her as they walk. “You didn’t have to come. I just forgot. We were having a great time. And I just realized that I forgot.”

Pinching her lips together, Felicity stays silent. This isn’t just a bad night. She hasn’t seen her mother like this since she was fourteen. She wants to ask what happened, but she knows she should save it until they’re home. Or better yet, until morning. 

Felicity mumbles her gratitude to Tara once they get to the door, not meeting her eyes.

“No problem,” the bartender answers. She wears a kind smile, but it’s her eyes that hold all the pity. Pity is better than judgement, but Felicity still feels the same shame. The same secondhand embarrassment. And as they struggle towards the parking lot, the feeling intensifies when she remembers that Oliver is waiting. That he’s about to see her usually eccentric mother on a whole new level of hot mess.

“Mom,” Felicity huffs, struggling to keep them both balanced. “Where are your keys?” 

“Hmm?” Her mother drags her feet, her eyes closed as she lets Felicity lead the way.

The car isn’t too far away. Maybe she can get Donna inside, then tell Oliver that she’ll drive them home and he can go. She’ll just say that she’ll call him tomorrow and come up with an excuse later.

_ Yeah. That could work. _

“Oliver!? Is that Oliver Queen!?”

_ Frack. Or not. _

Felicity loses all sense of balance as her mom starts to ungracefully steer them towards Oliver’s car. He’s heading their way, his expression concerned. Not that Donna seems to notice; the woman won’t stop wiggling in excitement, almost making them both fall over. 

“We’re fine,” Felicity forces a laugh as Oliver reaches them. “She’s just...had a lot to drink tonight. I’m going to drive her home. You can head out too, we’ll be alright.”

In typical Oliver fashion, he ignores that suggestion completely and smiles at Donna instead. “Hello, Ms. Smoak. It’s been a while.”

Donna giggles like a schoolgirl with a crush, and Felicity rolls her eyes. “Oh and don’t you just get more and more handsome every time I see you! Sweetheart, isn’t he handsome?”

“Yes, mom. He is,” she grumbles back. “But we should really get you home now. Keys, please?”

With her eyes and a smile still fixed on Oliver, Donna waves her off. “Oh, Charlotte took those from me a few hours ago. She said she’d leave them in the mailbox at the house because she didn’t want me to drive.”

“And she couldn’t have given you a ride home.”

“She offered,” her mom’s smile ticks up a notch as she throws Oliver a wink. “But I wasn’t done drinking.”

Closing her eyes, Felicity sighs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She’d much rather call an Uber to pick them up, but she knows Oliver wouldn’t let her. “Come on,” he offers his arm to Donna, “I’ll drive you two home.”

Donna releases her hold on Felicity, exchanging it for a tight grip on Oliver’s arm, and she sucks in a deep breath, trailing behind them as they walk slowly to Oliver’s car.

Once they get Donna settled in the back, Felicity climbs into the passenger seat, listening to her mother rattle on about how her friend Lisa had scored their young waiter’s phone number at dinner earlier. As Oliver drives off, Felicity looks up at him, mouthing an apology, but he just smiles and shakes his head. It’s not uncommon for her to tune her mom out, and it would have been fine if Donna didn’t end the story by saying, “anyway, he looked like he couldn’t have been older than twenty-five! Lisa says that younger men are much better lovers...how old are you again, Oliver?”

“Mom!” she whips around, giving Donna a look of pure horror at the incredibly obvious suggestion. As if having her new boyfriend drive her drunk mother home from a bar isn’t obvious enough. Now her drunk mother  _ has to hit on him? _

“I was just asking!”

With a groan, Felicity shrinks down in her seat, covering her face with her hand. “Please just stop talking.”

Luckily, Donna listens. And Oliver keeps quiet too, apparently smart enough to stay out of that ordeal.

No one says a word, and after a few minutes, it starts to feel awkward. But still, Felicity would much rather have uncomfortable silence for the rest of the way home than take a gamble on whatever might come out of Donna’s mouth next. 

As they reach the outskirts of town, Felicity relaxes. All she has to do is get her mom inside, then she can sleep it off. And they can deal with everything else tomorrow, including the fact that they’d have to go back in the morning to pick up her car from the parking lot.

And they would definitely be having a long conversation about this. Or at least about finding better friends who wouldn’t abandon her in a bar. Maybe she should even call Charlotte and Lisa in the morning to give them a piece of her mind. Because even though her mother can be embarrassing, the thing that pisses her off most is that she was left to fend for herself when her friends should have taken care of her.

Also, what Felicity really doesn’t understand was why Donna drank so much in the first place. There was a time when the woman had used alcohol as a distraction, a way to lessen her pain, but she’d always been more of a social drinker. In fact, she usually hated to drink alone, and Felicity hasn’t seen her  _ this  _ drunk since…

“Oh,” Felicity chokes, realizing what day it is.

_ Oh, honey, you didn’t have to come. I just forgot. We were having a great time. And I just realized that I forgot. _

Felicity’s eyes quickly fill with tears. She’d forgotten, too.

Looking over her shoulder, Felicity feels her heart clench as she notices that her mom is crying silently, keeping her eyes on her window. Because she’d told her not to talk. She’d snapped at her, and she’d been embarrassed by her, and she forgot.

“Mom…”

Donna picks her head up, meeting Felicity’s eyes. “It’s okay, baby,” she soothes, hearing the apology that Felicity hasn’t voiced. “Do you want to go see him?”

Straightening her shoulders, Felicity steals a glance at Oliver. “Not tonight, mom. I’ll take you tomorrow.”

“I want to see him.” 

Silence answers her. Felicity can see the wheels turning in Oliver’s expression, distracted from the road as he notices the tears in both their eyes.

“It’s his birthday,” Felicity whispers under her breath. “We forgot.”

Oliver’s eyes dart down to her face. “Do you want me to turn around?”

“No,” she clenches her jaw, even though she wants nothing more than to sit on the cool grass and talk to her almost-step-father like she has so many times before. But a drunk and crying Donna Smoak isn’t the best companion.

Not even for the dead.

* * *

He can’t sleep.

All Oliver can think about is Felicity; the look on her face when he dropped them off, so clear that she was beating herself up. He hates seeing her cry. 

And her mother. 

God, he couldn’t get Donna’s words out of his head. 

The two of them had been through so much. But they made it so easy to forget. They both hid it so well...in their humor and their laughter and their giant, unselfish hearts. It was easy to forget the pain they’d endured; the fact that Felicity’s dad had abandoned her before she’d moved to Starling, the fact that her mom had fallen in love with a detective at the SCPD after they moved to town, but he died shortly after their engagement. 

It probably all factored in to how protective he feels over Felicity. She’d been so young when it happened. And Oliver had practically been a stranger to her at the time. Of course, they’d talked about it as they became closer, but he’d be lying if he said that he understood how she felt.

Turning over in his bed, Oliver checks his phone again, disappointed to see that his only new messages are from Tommy. He ignores them, quickly deciding to call Felicity instead. Sometimes, she’s so hard to read. He really has no idea if she’ll want to talk or if she won’t bother picking up, but as the phone rings, and rings, he’s pretty sure he has his answer. Or she could be asleep.

With a sigh, Oliver prepares for her voicemail, hoping that he can at least make her smile with a message for her to wake up to. There were nights while he was in Russia that he couldn’t get out of work on time and she’d end up falling asleep before he could get back to his apartment to call her. Whenever that happened, he’d leave a quick message on her voicemail instead of hanging up, and she always seemed to enjoy it.

“Hey,”

“Felicity,” he breathes, moving to sit up. “Hey. Did I wake you?”

“No,” she sighs back. “I just finished getting my mom to bed.”

“How is she?”

She groans, and Oliver holds his breath as he hears the worry in it. “She feels guilty about forgetting Quentin’s birthday. And she misses him. I mean, she always misses him. But she said she didn’t realize what the date was until their waitress at dinner asked if they wanted to participate in their monthly trivia game and she remembered what day it was. And then...she started drinking, and things just took a turn, I guess.”

“I can’t even imagine… Why did her friends bail?” He asks gently.

“Charlotte and Lisa are bitches,” Felicity scoffs. “Mom says she didn’t tell them what was going on. I wish she would have called me rather than confiding in tequila, though.”

Relieved just to hear her laugh, Oliver knows he made the right choice to call. He had a feeling that tonight wasn’t the first time Felicity had to take care of her mom, and it doesn’t sit right with him, knowing that she’d only been fourteen when Quentin Lance died. Knowing that in some way, he’d been a part of her life back then, and he’d never noticed how much responsibility was put on her shoulders. But he also realizes that he can’t change the past, and that there’s no point in asking Felicity to talk about it tonight aside from his own desire to know.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity suddenly huffs. “I kind of ruined our...date. Thing. You know.”

To be perfectly honest, Oliver had forgotten what they were doing when the bar called. What they’d been  _ about  _ to do. He swallows, “you didn’t ruin anything, Felicity. I’m not in a rush here. I mean, I’d love to—obviously, um, I’d love to do that with you. But we can take our time. We have time.”

To that, Felicity snorts. “You seemed pretty eager to get in my pants.”

“Get in your pants?” Oliver chuckles, shaking his head. 

_ Well, she isn’t exactly wrong. _

“Yes. Don’t worry...I very much wanted you in my pants.”

Oliver grins, hearing the smile in her voice. He closes his eyes, leaning back against his pillows. Truth be told, he’s much more at ease when Felicity Smoak is teasing him.

A quiet moment passes between them, and then she asks, “is it weird if I’ve missed our late night phone calls?”

The question makes him pause for a moment, wondering what she means. “What,” he laughs, “the real deal isn’t what you thought it would be? Am I not living up to the hype?”

“No,” Felicity laughs, too. “I mean, yes, you are, and no, that’s not it. It’s just...we both know this was way easier to navigate when we were across the world from each other.”

Nodding, Oliver considers how to respond, slightly worried that this is her way of telling him it’s too much. “We knew it would be hard,” he sighs. “Actually, to be perfectly honest, one of the things I was worried about was that it might be...awkward. With us. Since we’ve been friends for so long, you know? I was afraid that when we finally saw each other, that it would just be...not what you were expecting.”

“I think that after tonight, if one of us should be second guessing, it should be you.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the idea. “What could I possibly have to second guess?”

“Um...you were there tonight, right? Us Smoak women carry some heavy baggage. I’d understand if this isn’t as fun and sexy as you thought it would be and you wanted an out...”

“Hey,” Oliver huffs. “I’m not interested in an out. I’m all in. For all of you. Not just the fun and sexy parts. This stuff with your mom...it’s clearly still painful for her and I know it hurts you to see her like that. I want to be here for you.” 

“Okay,” she whispers. Oliver’s eyes slip shut, listening to her gentle breaths for a few moments. “Well...talk to me then.”

“Talk to you about what?” Oliver asks softly.

“I don’t know. Anything.”

It’s probably not the best time to bring it up, but he knows he needs to tell her about the conversation, or demand, his dad had brought up that morning. The fact that Helena Bertinelli wants a ‘meeting’ with him. And Oliver knows he has to say something before Thea or Moira mention it in front of Felicity, because then she’ll think he was trying to hide it. 

Hurting her is just about the last thing he’s trying to do. If  _ he  _ tells her about it, and tells her that he doesn’t intend to go...then they can just laugh it off. 

He should have mentioned it earlier. He’d had all night to do it, but they were having fun, and he was afraid it might bring down their mood.

_ In hindsight, though... _

“There is something I want to mention about this morning—”

“This morning in the shower?” Felicity interrupts. “I was hoping you would.”

He pauses, thrown off. “Uh, what do you mean? What about the shower?”

“Well, just, that I had a good time...and...we should do that again.”

There’s something more behind her words, something she’s not saying. And it has his interest piqued. “I’m definitely on board for that. You are always invited to my showers. Anytime you want.”

“We haven’t even had a first date and you’ve already gotten me naked in a shower.”

With a laugh, Oliver replies, “I believe it was  _ you _ who joined  _ me  _ this morning, so technically I’d say that  _ you  _ are the one who got  _ me  _ naked in a shower.”

Felicity giggles, the sound like music to his ears. “Well, that’s true…”

“I was actually going to say something not-shower related, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Oliver sighs, turning to lay on his back. “My dad talked to me this morning. Apparently, Helena Bertinelli is requesting another meeting before she’ll agree to make a deal between QC and Unidac. Except she only wants to meet with me. And she wants it to be over dinner.”

“That...sounds like a date.”

“That’s what I said.”

“How does her husband feel about that?”

“That’s what I asked,” Oliver grumbles. “Zach doesn’t care. According to my dad, he’s encouraging it if it's what Helena wants in order to feel comfortable with the merger.”

“Huh,” Felicity breathes. “So...you’re going out with her?”

“No,” Oliver quickly replies. “I just wanted to tell you because my dad isn’t taking no for an answer. But I’ll just tell them I’m sick last minute.”

“Oliver,” she laughs. “Don’t you think Mrs. Bertinelli will think it’s unprofessional for you to bail at the last minute?”

“Don’t you think it’s unprofessional for Mrs. Bertinelli to request something like this in the first place?”

“Valid point,” Felicity huffs.

In truth, he knows that Felicity has a point, too. Helena will probably be pissed when he says he can’t go. It’s also not the best look for Queen Consolidated’s reputation. Not to mention his own personal reputation for being flippant and irresponsible that he’s still trying to shake off. But he also doesn’t give a shit what Helena thinks.

“It would be one thing if this was a legitimate business meeting,” he continues gently, “but I won’t have my father or Helena Bertinelli dictating what I do.”

“It’s just dinner, right?”

“Yes…”

“I’m just saying,” Felicity sighs. “If it’s going to speed up the Unidac merger… You’re only here for two weeks. Didn’t you say you wanted to close the deal with your dad while you’re here? To show him that you can do it?”

“This is not...this is not about the merger, though.”

“I’m aware that the woman is interested in you,” Felicity answers. “And you’re aware, too. But we’re together, right?”

“Right.”

“So what is she going to do?”

Given their first encounter and how Helena had her hands all over him, he really doesn’t want to find out. And honestly...he’s surprised that Felicity isn’t thinking the same thing.

“Maybe…” Felicity ponders, “I don’t know, maybe you should just go. Get her to sign the contract. It’d be best for business, wouldn’t it?”

Oliver raises his eyebrows. That’s just about the last thing he expected her to say. “You sound like my dad.”

Felicity scoffs in disapproval. “Well, I’m not saying take her home and fuck her, Oliver. I’m saying take the meeting,” _ the dinner date,  _ “and see what she has to say.”

“You want me to go...out to dinner...with Helena Bertinelli?” 

The same woman they’d just had an argument about because Felicity thought he was flirting with her?

This girl...every time he thinks he has her figured out…

“You don’t have to refuse just because she’s an attractive woman,” Felicity points out. “I’m sure you’re capable of keeping things professional.”

Oliver shakes his head, knowing that  _ temptation  _ isn’t the problem. But maybe, in a way, Felicity wants to know that a ‘meal with a beautiful woman’ as his father had put it earlier, isn’t something that could break them. That it isn’t a threat. It’s not that she’s purposely trying to test him, but more like she’s trusting him in a way that’s new for them.

Felicity said that they deserved a clean slate. And he believes that she means it. But that obviously doesn’t mean he  _ wants  _ to entertain Helena Bertinelli’s whims. 

“Sure,” Oliver mumbles. “I’ll think about it.”

“Either way, it’s up to you, Oliver. If you don’t think it’s a good idea, then don’t go. Anyway, I uh, I should get to bed.”

“Okay,” Oliver frowns, still wanting to talk to her, not quite ready to hang up. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Sounds good. Goodnight, Oliver.”

“Goodnight, Felicity…” he whispers back.

_ What the hell just happened? _


	7. Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luckily, Felicity knows him better than anyone.
> 
> She doesn’t ask. She doesn’t push. Instead, she gives him her silent comfort. Her support.
> 
> And right in that moment, it makes him fall even more in love with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!   
> Disclaimer/reminder that Robert Queen is an antagonist in this story. That will come into play, especially in this chapter. And I wanted to make sure everyone knows that I've added a tag for Mild Violence.  
> I hope you all like the chapter, it's my favorite so far! Please let me know what you think :)

Felicity is beyond bored. She has the townhouse to herself, since her mother had decided to go out of town for the weekend to visit her sister. After that night at the bar, Donna wanted to get away for a while, take a break from Starling. And Aunt Cara is the perfect person to help. Felicity’s aunt has always known how to pick someone up when they’re feeling down. Especially Donna. 

And it’s a relief...knowing that her mom will be in good hands. That Donna recognizes when she isn’t okay and has grown enough to not only know what she needs, but how to ask for it. Felicity is glad that she’ll get to have the weekend away, spending time with her sister.

Although, it does leave _her_ feeling rather lonely at the moment.

Oliver is on his date with Helena Bertinelli tonight.

No. No, it’s a ‘business meeting.’

Even the thought makes her roll her eyes. It’s so transparently _not_ a business meeting. Oliver had called that out right away. Yet, she’d still encouraged him to go. And no matter how much she’d been brooding over it for the past few days, Felicity still has no idea _why_ she did it. 

When Oliver texted and said he made a reservation, asking if she was sure she didn’t have a problem with it, she didn’t tell him that she’d changed her mind. She didn’t ask him not to go. Even though she knew that was all she would need to say.

_Because sure, why not take their already complicated situation and make it worse? Maybe she just has a sick need for self-destruction._

Now that the time has finally come for this ‘meeting’ and Felicity knows exactly where Oliver is and exactly who he is with, she wants to tell him that she’s not as on board with it as she thought. In fact, she types out a number of messages to him.

_Oliver, I don’t like this._

_I shouldn’t have told you to go tonight._

_This is a mistake. Is it too late for you to cancel?_

She doesn’t send any of the messages though.

Every response falls flat. And she knows it’d be unfair to put him on the spot with such short notice. He would leave that restaurant in a heartbeat if she said anything of those things. Felicity knows that with certainty. But she doesn’t want him to look like a flake in front of his business partners just because she decided to change her mind. Not when Oliver had said, point blank, that he didn’t even want to go. 

And yet, she’d insisted that he should.

Felicity sighs, falling back onto the couch and dropping the book in her hands. She hadn’t really been reading it anyway. She closes her eyes with a groan, wondering how she’s going to get through the next couple of hours knowing that Oliver is sitting across the table from another woman. A gorgeous woman. A _married_ woman who surely has that ‘forbidden fruit’ thing going on. But she refuses to stand between him and his job. And with his job, women like Helena Bertinelli are always going to be around him, right?

Which has probably never been an issue for Oliver before. But now, with Felicity in the picture, it complicates things. And the last thing she wants is for him to feel like _she_ is the thing that’s making his life more complicated.

_Ugh._

Her phone chimes from the table at her feet, and Felicity quickly grabs it to check the message, not caring if it seems desperate because no one is there to judge her. She frowns as she looks down at the screen.

Tommy: _Hey Smoak, where are you?_

Letting out a deep sigh, she types back: _At home. Reading. Why?_

Tommy: _I’m in my car. Sitting outside Table Salt._

Felicity blinks, the image coming together in a matter of seconds and instantly filling her chest with anger. She curses, muttering under her breath as she pulls up his name in her contacts. 

Tommy answers her call instantly, his voice calm as he purrs, “heyyyyy Felicity. What’s up?”

“Thomas Merlyn,” she snaps back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing right now?”

He scoffs, “um, what _you_ should be doing right now! I’m spying on your boyfriend! Who is on a date with another woman! _I’m_ making sure that Oliver doesn’t do anything stupid!”

Felicity groans, shaking her head. She knew that Tommy had known about her and Oliver since the yacht. He’d been sweet to help her when she wanted to surprise Oliver at the hangar, letting her be there to greet Oliver instead of him. It was obvious that he knew _something_ about what was going on between her and Oliver, but that didn’t really surprise her since he is Oliver’s best friend. Tommy didn’t ask questions, and Felicity didn’t give answers. And she’d been happy to leave it at that.

_Except, apparently now the handsome dope has decided to take an active role._

“First of all, Oliver is not my boyfriend. I mean, I don’t think he is.” They cleared the air about the whole exclusive thing, but are they a couple? 

_Back burner, Felicity._

“He is,” Tommy chimes in. “And yes, you are a couple.”

“Second of all,” Felicity continues, her voice stern, “it’s not a date. And third of all, the fact that you’re Oliver’s best friend, and you think he needs to be _spied on_ to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid...really doesn’t make me feel any better about this!”

Tommy huffs, “so you think this whole thing is stupid, too? God, at least you haven’t completely lost your mind. I was a little worried about you when Ollie told me that you were totally chill about this Helena thing. I was like, ‘has she _seen_ Helena Bertinelli?’ and he was all, ‘yup. She doesn’t care.’ How do you not care, Smoak!? She’s a goddess! And she’s hot for your man. You don’t push your boyfriend into another woman’s arms! That’s teen drama 101!”

“This isn’t a teen drama, Tommy!”

He gasps, “damn, look at that...she’s not even subtle about it.”

Her mouth drops open, instantly wanting to ask Tommy what he’s seeing, but she’s pretty sure it will only make matters worse. “Don’t you have anything better to do right now? A strip club to spend all your dad’s money at or something?”

“Nope, I cleared my schedule. Speaking of schedules, I told Oliver that we should have brunch at his place tomorrow so we can talk about Thea’s party. You should definitely join us. Last time Oliver and I planned her birthday celebration without your input, well, you remember the clown—”

“She was eighteen.”

“And I can see now why a clown at her birthday party would be embarrassing. So point proven. Anyway, you’re in for tomorrow? Raisa said she’d make french toast so you better come at 11:00. And don’t be late because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself if she makes them into those little sticks with the warm maple syrup.”

Felicity rolls her eyes, too caught up in the fact that Tommy is stalking Oliver’s date to care about Thea’s party, clowns, or french toast sticks. “Go home, Merlyn!”

The idea of Oliver or Helena glancing up, looking out the window and seeing Tommy peeping on them like a creep has her heart racing. And the fact that she’s currently on the phone with him while he carries out his stalker plan makes her feel like a co-conspirator.

“No way,” Tommy sighs. But just so we’re clear, I’m on your side here. I love Oliver, but if he screws this up with you, I’ll kick his ass.”

Surprised, Felicity doesn’t respond. She and Tommy Merlyn both grew up around the Queens, being Thea and Oliver’s best friends. But the two of them had never been particularly close. There was familiarity, of course, just not a friendship that would warrant the kind of loyalty behind his words. After a long pause, she has to ask, “why do you care so much about this, Tommy?”

He scoffs, “are you kidding? I’ve watched Oliver moon over you for years. And as far as I can tell, he has everything he’s wanted. So if he’s going to ruin that for some sexy, dark haired temptress, I’m going to be pissed. I’ll be the one listening to him whine about how he fucked up, so I’ll be kicking his ass for both of us!”

“Tommy,” Felicity exhales slowly, fighting against the knots in her stomach. “I trust him. You need to go home. This is weird. And creepy. And really crossing a line as far as boundaries go. I mean, I can’t believe you’d just—”

“Oh,” He interrupts her, “she’s making a move.” 

Felicity pauses, her breath catching in her throat as Tommy continues, “hand reaching across the table...making contact...now she’s leaning in. Shit, she’s going for it. Going in for the kill. Ugh, stupid, sexy temptress with those bedroom eyes!” Biting her lip, Felicity can’t help but hang on Tommy’s words. How could she not? “Oh!”

Felicity startles at his outburst. “What?”

“That’s my boy!”

“What!?” Felicity wails, needing to know. “What happened?”

“He shut her down,” Tommy answers. “Damn, that rejection stings even from here.” He sighs in relief, “he didn’t kiss her. I’m so happy I don’t have to kick his ass. I really didn’t want to fight my best friend. Plus, as history proves, Oliver tends to win those fights.”

Relief floods her chest. And some guilt...that she’d even doubted Oliver for that brief moment. “Okay Tommy,” Felicity says slowly, closing her eyes. “Game over. Seriously, go home now.”

“Fine. You’re no fun,” he complains. “I’ll leave as soon as you tell me one thing. Why did you want Oliver to go out with Helena so bad?”

Felicity sighs, wishing she could answer that question for herself. “It’s not that I _wanted_ him to go out with her,” she whispers, trying to find an explanation that makes sense. “I just know that this merger is important for QC. Helena requested the dinner. If Oliver wasn’t worried about me, he would have just said yes and been done with it. Come on, Tommy...you know the way that Robert does business. This kind of thing is normal for them. Oliver had no reason to say no. Besides _me._ I don’t want him to have to change things just to keep me comfortable.”

_Because then, somewhere down the line, he might realize that he likes it better if things are easy. Less complicated. The opposite of what he has with her._

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Smoak...” Felicity pauses at the tone of Tommy’s voice, surprised by the sincerity she can hear. “Oliver doesn’t want to run QC like his dad does. You have to see that by now. He doesn’t want to go on dates, or _meetings,_ with other women and he certainly doesn’t want to play those games in order to strike a business deal. I’m pretty sure he’s only in there right now because you told him that he should go.”

Closing her eyes, Felicity slumps against the couch. She knows that Tommy’s right. Queen Consolidated isn’t exactly known for their righteous business practices...but Oliver wants to be different. He wants to leave a different mark. And he knows right from wrong.

He isn’t his father.

Of course, she knows that.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Tommy?”

“Oliver’s coming out of the restaurant. He totally saw me. Shit, he’s coming this way. Nice talking to you, Felicity. See you tomorrow! Bye!”

As soon as he hangs up on her, Felicity tosses her phone aside, falling onto the couch with a groan. She knows that wasn’t the last she’d be hearing about this.

* * *

Rejecting Helena Bertinelli is just as awkward a second time as it was the first time. Oliver sensed it coming, her hand sliding across the table to reach his. The way she’d started to lean towards him, her intentions perfectly clear.

He’d tried to start the meal by being cordial. Professional. He jumped right into business topics; concerns she might have, ways to grow their network, even a few strategic ideas he’d come up with that could help put Unidac’s products on the map.

Helena had listened, keeping mostly quiet, while Oliver managed to talk until their food came. He thought he might even make it out of there without too much awkwardness. Then he carefully switched the conversation to smaller talk, trying not to inhale his chicken so this could be over faster. He remembered that at breakfast the other day, Helena said she wanted to visit Russia. So he asked where else she wanted to go and if there were other countries she was interested in expanding Unidac to.

They talked about all the places they’d been and all the places they still wanted to see. That lasted through dessert. And by the time the night was reaching a natural close, Oliver was surprised that it hadn’t been nearly as bad as he thought it would be. He still didn’t believe that Helena’s intentions were pure, but he also still saw a very lonely person in front of him...and he still felt bad for her. She’d resorted to using her business to demand a dinner companion, which meant she probably doesn’t have too many friends. And he _knows_ she has a husband who doesn’t give a shit about her.

As Oliver talked to her, he couldn’t help but realize how true it is. She didn’t mention anyone other than Zach, not friends or family or colleagues. 

It was sad.

But still...it doesn’t change anything.

He couldn’t blame Helena for wanting a distraction. For wanting to get away. But he wished he wasn’t the focus of her escape.

When the waiter comes back with the check, Oliver is glad that the whole charade will be over. His dad and Zach will be pleased with the ideas they came up with. Helena got her ‘meeting.’ And most importantly, Felicity can rest assured that there’s nothing going on between him and Helena. _No drama, and everyone will be happy._

As he reaches for the check, Helena does the same. She puts her hand over his and smiles at him from across the table. “This dinner was my idea. I should pay.”

Oliver laughs, pulling his hand out from under hers and taking the check with him. “I think my father would disown me if he found out I let you pay.”

“Well, he doesn’t have to know.” Helena shrugs, dropping her voice as she finishes her drink, “there are a lot of things you and I can do that no one has to know about.” She barely gives him a moment to react before she starts moving closer, her eyes dropping to his lips.

Oliver sucks in a breath, leaning back when she leans forward. “Oh,” he pinches his lips together. “Um, no.”

_And there’s the awkwardness._

Helena blinks at him as if she doesn’t understand the word. “No?” She pouts.

Trying to cut some of the tension, Oliver forces a laugh. “I’m sorry, I thought I made it clear the other morning…”

Her frown deepens, “and I thought all of that cat and mouse crap was just because my husband was there.”

“I told you I’m seeing someone,” Oliver shakes his head.

“Then why did you come here?”

He sighs, “to be perfectly honest, I don’t know. Everyone wanted me to.” 

_Even Felicity._

Analyzing him, Helena narrows her eyes. “But you didn’t want to.”

It’s obvious that she isn’t asking, and it’s strange to him that it takes her until that moment to get the picture. Although, he did realize after only a few minutes of meeting her that Helena Bertinelli isn’t someone who hears ‘no’ very often. Especially not from the men that she’s interested in. “Well, Oliver,” she pins him with a glare. “If you don’t want to be here, then you should probably go.”

Her anger is palpable. And Oliver gives her a moment, taking his time as he pulls out a few bills and leaves them with the check. “Helena…” he says gently, feeling bad that he’s embarrassed her. “Look, I had a nice time tonight. A really nice time...I won’t lie about that. If you ever need a friend, I’m around. I think we have more in common than either of us want to admit.” Her controlling, judgmental, and critical husband. His controlling, judgmental, and critical father. “But friends...I think that’s all we should be.”

It kind of surprises him. How easy it is to say those words. To say them to a beautiful woman who was clearly interested in being more than friends, no less. To tell someone exactly how he feels, even though it’s uncomfortable. If this was the old him, he would have avoided having to say those words at all costs. He would have been a dick to Helena until she got the picture. Because being upfront and honest is something he’s never really done, as pathetic as that is.

Unfortunately, Helena isn’t one to appreciate his transparency. She simply scoffs at him, continuing to glare. “You can leave now.”

Putting his hands up in surrender, Oliver stands up from the table, knowing that she also won’t appreciate an offer to walk her to her car. “Have a nice night, Helena.”

And then he heads for the door, relieved as he makes it to the sidewalk outside and can take a deep breath of the cool air. When he looks up, the first thing he sees is Tommy Merlyn sitting in his car across the street. He frowns, watching as Tommy rests his head against his seat, holding his phone up to his ear as he talks to someone.

 _Well, there’s no way that_ this _is a coincidence._

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Oliver looks both ways before crossing the street, making it halfway to his friend’s car before he glances up and notices him. Tommy’s face falls, his lips moving as he quickly finishes his conversation. Then he drops his phone in his lap and rolls down the window.

“Ollie!” Tommy gives him a wide, innocent smile. “What a surprise running into you here!”

Oliver cocks his head to the side, staring down at his friend curiously. “I told you I was taking Helena to Table Salt tonight.”

“Did you?” 

“Mm-hm.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, “I totally forgot.”

“Were you…” Oliver gestures from Tommy to the windows of the restaurant, narrowing his eyes. “Were you spying on me?”

“What? No!”

Tommy has always been a bad liar; his voice gets too high pitched and he looks everywhere but at the person he’s lying to. 

Oliver bends down, forcing Tommy to look at him. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Fine!” Tommy huffs. “I was spying!”

_Too easy._

One might think that if a person goes through the trouble of stalking their best friend outside of a restaurant, they’d have a better excuse in place in case they get caught. But it is _Tommy,_ after all.

“And...why did you decide to take it upon yourself to spy on me?”

“To make sure you didn’t do anything stupid.”

Oliver sighs. Unfortunately, he’s known Tommy Merlyn most of his life, and this little stunt doesn’t exactly shock him. “Go home, Tommy.”

Pouting back at him, Tommy starts his car, mimicking, “‘go home, Tommy.’ Psht! Whatever! I skipped Cowgirl Night at the strip club for this. And do I get a ‘thank you’? Noooo.” Oliver doesn’t bother to respond, and Tommy doesn’t bother to say goodbye before driving off.

Chuckling, he walks to his own car, still shaking his head at Tommy. As soon as he gets home, he plans to call Felicity; which will hopefully either lead to her inviting him over, or a long phone conversation until they fall asleep. And he takes comfort in that, because he hasn’t talked to her all day aside from a few texts, and he’s already looking forward to hearing her voice again. Like the sap that he is.

When he gets home, Oliver slips inside and closes the door quietly, knowing that his family is still awake, but he’s not really looking to talk to any of them at the moment. He walks straight for the stairs, a quick shower before he calls Felicity in his sights.

The light in his dad’s office is on, and he tries to slide by the door without being seen.

“Oliver, that you?”

Letting out a long sigh, Oliver closes his eyes. How many times as a teenager did he sneak into the house in the middle of the night, completely unnoticed by his father? 

Yet Robert chooses _now_ to pay attention. Or maybe he’s always paid attention, but it’s only now that he cares.

“Yeah, dad,” he calls back, staying out of sight in the hallway. “Just heading up to take a shower.”

Robert doesn’t answer right away, so Oliver starts moving towards the stairs again. 

“Son, come here a minute.”

The freedom he had in Russia was nice; away from parents who stop him to ask questions as soon as he walks through the door, or almost catch him making out with a girl in the bushes in front of the house. Whenever he moves on from Russia, wherever he goes after that, Oliver vows that he’s going to get his own place to live.

Stepping back to the doorway, he leans against the frame and looks in at his dad. The older man sits at his desk, behind a stack of papers, and peers up at him from behind his glasses. Oliver can’t help but note that this is the exact picture that comes to mind every time he thinks of his father. “Hey, dad. What’s up?”

“How did it go tonight?”

Oliver shrugs, “fine. Mrs. Bertinelli has a lot of good ideas for Unidac.”

His dad hums in response, watching him. “So, nothing you couldn’t handle?”

“No,” he answers slowly, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Are you sure?” Robert shoots back, the words low. And it’s then that Oliver registers the anger in his voice, the tension in his shoulders. “Because I just got off the phone with her. She was pretty pissed off, after you abandoned her in the restaurant, I assume.”

“Abandoned her?” Oliver gapes, utterly confused. “She _told me_ to leave.”

Robert purses his lips, the look on his face hard and withdrawn. “You clearly offended her, Oliver. What did you do?”

Oliver blinks back at him, surprised at the accusation in his tone. “I didn’t do anything wrong, dad.”

“Well,” his father leans back, lifting his hands from the desk. “She says she’s not sure if QC is the right fit for Unidac. So you obviously did something to upset her.”

Rolling his eyes, Oliver steps back from the door. “Helena isn’t an idiot. They’ll sign the contract. Don’t worry about it.” And he doesn’t wait for Robert to answer, moving away from the doorway because he doesn’t have the energy to debate something as pointless as this.

He’s done with the conversation.

He’s done with Helena Bertinelli’s games.

And he’s done with the whole weird night.

“Oliver,” Robert stops him. “I’m not cleaning up your messes anymore. You need to fix this with Bertinelli!”

Pausing in the hallway, Oliver stares at his father. He doesn’t know why he picks that night to stop biting his tongue. But it’s something that he wonders about for years to come. “You haven’t fixed any of my mistakes, dad. It was always mom who protected me. You were so focused on yourself,” he lowers his voice, narrowing his eyes, “or your _mistresses_...that you didn’t have time to clean up after me. You were barely around enough to be a parent.”

Robert stands up from his chair, his breath heavy as he raises a finger at his son in warning. “Watch your fucking mouth, Oliver.”

That’s when Oliver’s eyes flicker down to his dad’s desk, noticing the half-empty bottle of scotch. He shakes his head, realizing that Robert is probably drunk and looking for an argument. “Goodnight, dad,” he mumbles, unable to keep the disgust out of his voice.

Just as he’s turning to leave, Robert slams his fist down on his desk. “Hey! I’m still talking to you!”

Oliver hesitates, mostly in awe that _this_ is someone that he’d once idolized. It’d been years since he saw his father as a hero, but the man in front of him is so far from anything admirable. 

“Have another drink, dad,” he grits out, “then sleep it off. Probably better if we discuss this in the morning.”

“You are _my_ son,” Robert growls back, jabbing his finger again. He rounds the desk, coming closer as he continues with malice, “don’t you dare chastise me! I asked you to do one thing. Charm a woman...the _only_ thing you’ve done successfully since your balls dropped! And you couldn’t do it. Oliver, I can’t even count your failures. You’re an embarrassment to this family.” Robert steps closer, getting in his face, but Oliver is too struck by the words, the _resentment_ in them, to move. “Do you know how many times I’ve felt ashamed...that _you’re_ my son?”

Rage suddenly fills Oliver’s chest, fueled by shock. And _hurt._ “Go fuck yourself.”

In an instant, with barely enough time to catch his breath, Robert raises his fist and lands a single, solid blow to his son’s face.

Oliver stumbles backwards, his shoulder hitting the door. Pain rushes from his left eye through his whole face. He’s been in fights before. Been punched in the face before. But nothing has stung worse than the weight of his father’s knuckles.

He touches his eye, then pulls his hand back, feeling like he’s not even in his own body as he blinks down at the blood on his fingers. When he looks back at Robert, the other man seems just as shocked as Oliver feels.

Without a word, he straightens his back and walks out of the room. And this time, his dad doesn’t stop him. Oliver doesn’t know where he’s going as he shuffles his feet to the front door. Or as he makes his way out of the house and to his car.

But as soon as he grips his hands on the steering wheel, he knows exactly where he wants to be.

Oliver drives in a bit of a haze, keeping himself focused on his surroundings. Not on the dark thoughts that try to creep in. Not on his dad’s words that are still ringing in his ears. 

He parks on the street in front of her townhouse. Then he finds some napkins in his glove compartment and pulls down the mirror in front of him, finally taking a look at his face. He winces in pain, dabbing the napkins at the dried blood, trying to clean it the best that he can.

_I’m not cleaning up your messes anymore._

With a sigh, Oliver gets out and heads for Felicity’s door, his feet dragging and his head hanging.

He knocks gently, praying that she’s still up. Because as much as he doesn’t want to wake her, he _needs_ her.

After a moment, he hears her moving inside, and then the door swings open. 

“Oliver? Hey—” She starts to smile, but it quickly falls when she steps closer, the porch light providing enough light for her to notice the blood on his face. 

Swallowing, he finds his voice, staring down at his feet again. “Can I come in?”

Felicity steps back, grabbing his hand and gently pulling him through the door with a rushed, “yes, of course. Come in.” 

Pushing the door shut behind them, she leads him into the kitchen, her hand tightly wrapped around his. Felicity pulls out one of the stools at the island in the middle of the room, easing him onto it with her hand on his shoulder. He looks up at her as she checks out his eye, cringing now that she can see it in better lighting. 

And he just feels tired.

Oliver forces his eyes to stay on Felicity’s face, wanting nothing more than to let his head lull against her warm palm, to close his eyes and forget the entire night ever happened. Felicity meets his eyes after a moment, her fingers stilling except for her thumb, which she traces soothingly against his cheek. He tries to keep his voice optimistic, “it’s not as bad as it looks?”

Felicity takes a step back, her expression torn as she gestures to the sink. “Let me just grab a washcloth and a band-aid. Then we can talk…”

Nodding in response, he observes her quietly while she steps down the hall and into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a band-aid, a clean washcloth, two aspirins, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Felicity sets it all on the counter before stepping in front of the sink and wetting the washcloth. Then she fills a glass of water and brings that over, too.

He’s at a loss for words, trying to find the best place to start, to explain, but he can’t seem to find the words.

Luckily, Felicity knows him better than anyone.

She doesn’t ask. She doesn’t push. Instead, she gives him her silent comfort. Her support.

And right in that moment, it makes him fall even more in love with her.

When she finishes patching him up, she slides the aspirins and the water in front of him, waiting as he takes them. He gulps the water down in a few sips, knowing Felicity would tell him to finish it anyway. Once he sets the glass back down, she sighs, stepping between his legs. And then she tilts his chin up so he meets her eyes, asking in a whisper, “are you okay?”

His hands reach for her waist naturally, his fingers curling into the fabric of her pajama pants. “Yes.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Oliver swallows the lump in his throat. “Yes,” he nods. “I want to...I just…”

_Still can’t believe it._

Her hands are so warm against his face. So calm. “Please tell me that your _date_ didn’t do this to you.”

Glancing up at her, Oliver shakes his head. “We agreed that it wasn’t a date,” he tries to joke, but it sounds pitiful even to his own ears. 

He clears his throat, “my dad, actually.”

Felicity freezes, her face paling. “Your dad hit you?” 

Oliver nods once, confirming it. He clenches his jaw, closing his eyes as he tries to forget the way Robert had looked at him. The things he’d said. Because right now, that all hurts so much more than his left hook. 

And now...the feeling between them is mutual.

“Oliver,” Felicity’s voice is pleading. “Please tell me what happened.”

“Helena called my dad after I left,” he answers softly. “I don’t even know what she said to him, but he was pissed at me. He was drunk. Wanted a fight. He said some...awful things and I told him to go fuck himself. And then he punched me.”

Felicity wraps her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him as tightly as she possibly can. One hand rubs up and down his back, the other combs through his hair. And after a moment, Oliver hugs her back, his hands falling to her hips. He opens his legs wide, pulling her closer and circling both arms around her. 

It feels like he’s holding on to her too tight, but it also feels like she’s all that he has. And Felicity doesn’t seem to mind. She clutches to him just as hard. “Oh, Oliver,” she whispers in his ear. “I’m so sorry.”

They hold each other like that for a while, but she eventually leans back, kissing his cheek before she inspects his eye again. “A little bloodshot,” Felicity murmurs. “But the cut isn’t very deep.” With a frown, she gently touches the tender spot on his cheekbone, wincing when he winces. “It’ll probably leave a bruise in the morning, though.”

“Thank you. For taking care of me.”

“Always.” Felicity gives him a small, warm smile in return, grazing her thumb across his bottom lip. “Come on,” she whispers, taking his hand and leading him down the hallway towards her bedroom.

Oliver stops in the doorway as she flips off the light and continues towards the bed. “Felicity, are you sure it’s okay?”

She glances back at him, smiling. “Of course. I told you mom’s gone for the weekend anyway. I assume you don’t really feel like going home tonight.”

“No,” he sighs, still hesitating as she pulls the blanket back and sits down on the bed. 

God, does it look comfortable. Her bed looks like the perfect place to be. And with Felicity in it? It’s his own little slice of heaven, impossible to turn down.

With a sigh, Oliver comes into the room, leaving the door open, the light from the hall slanting across the middle of her bed. He climbs in, laying on his back with his head turned towards her. And Felicity moves onto her side, her eyes watching him. “You’re not going to sleep in your pants, are you?”

Glancing down at himself, Oliver shrugs. Then he unbuttons his pants and slips them down, dropping them beside the bed. As soon as he has them off, he can feel Felicity’s fingers on his shirt, making quick work of those buttons too. He chuckles as she slides her hands over his shoulders, pushing the fabric down.

“What?” Felicity asks innocently. “I’m helping.”

Once he’s left with nothing but his boxers, Felicity scoots closer, lifting the comforter until they’re both underneath it. Oliver opens his arm for her, letting out a content breath as she curls up next to him, nestling her head on his chest. He closes his eyes and happily ignores the dull ache in his head.

After a moment, he hears her mumble, “we’ve never slept together...this is nice.”

Oliver hums in response, kissing her forehead. “Do you snore?”

Tickling his side in retaliation, Felicity scoffs, “no, I do not snore! I am a bit of a blanket hog, though.”

“Noted,” Oliver grins, enjoying the sight of her, the room dimly lit, a quiet feeling settling over him. Something safe.

Felicity shifts her head, resting it in the crook of his arm so she can look up at him. He meets her eyes, brushing her hair back with his fingers. “What are we going to do, Oliver?”

He sucks in a breath, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know. And honestly, I don’t want to think about my family right now. I’m just glad to hear you say this is a ‘we’ sort of thing.”

“Of course it’s a ‘we’ sort of thing,” she replies, her fingers skimming across his chest. “Oliver...I feel like this is my fault. I shouldn’t have told you to go out with Helena tonight. I’m sorry that it made things harder for you.”

“It’s not your fault,” he smiles down at her reassuringly, squeezing her arm. “You didn’t make my dad an asshole.”

Biting her lip, Felicity looks up at the ceiling, knowing that Oliver believes those words. But she still feels guilty. “But you wouldn’t have even gone on that date— _meeting_ if it wasn’t for me. And then your dad wouldn’t have gotten upset.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow, “have you met my dad? He’s always upset. Also, have you met the rest of my family? We’re professionals at bottling our emotions up. For dad, that basically just means bottling his anger up. He’s probably been wanting to throw that punch since I was in middle school, Felicity. It’s not your fault. I promise. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says softly. “But I’m still sorry...I know you don’t want to think about it right now. It just...it makes me sad. You didn’t deserve that, Oliver. You know that, right?”

“Shh,” he soothes, closing his eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Felicity chuckles, “I think I’m supposed to be the one saying that to you right now.”

With a sigh, Oliver whispers back, “I know that I deserve better. All I’ve ever wanted was my father’s approval. But I realized that...I don’t need it. I’ve learned a lot in Russia and now I know what I’m capable of. Whether it’s at QC, or another company, or doing something completely different, I don’t need my dad’s help to be successful.”

“Wow,” Felicity whispers, and Oliver opens his eyes just to see the smile that he can hear in her voice. “That’s pretty smart.”

“Well,” he grins, “to be honest, I owe a lot of it to this genius, strong woman who has always believed in me.” Then he taps his index finger against her nose, “I’m pretty sure anything smart, I learned from you.”

Felicity smiles back at him, pressing her forehead against his. 

He closes his eyes again, taking in everything. The smell of her shampoo under his nose. How her body feels against his. Those soft curves and warm skin. The way she gently cards her fingers through his hair.

Everything that’s familiar to him now.

Everything he craves.

Everything he needs.

It’s easy to feel calm in that moment. To feel better. To block out the rest of the world and forget everything that hurts.

“Oliver?” 

“Hmm?”

“I just want to say…” Her voice is so quiet when she speaks again, timid like he’s never seen her. Oliver opens his eyes, instantly met by two blue ones staring back at him. “Please...try not to bottle anything up when it comes to us. If you’re angry about something, or annoyed with me, or upset, don’t hide it. Not from me.”

He shakes his head slowly, his nose rubbing against hers. “I’ll always tell you how I feel,” he promises.

Deep down, he knows that Felicity has always been _the_ girl in his life. Even when she wasn’t _his_ girl. She was the one that he wanted to impress. He wanted to make her proud. Make her smile. _Always._ And there’s nothing for him to hide. No reason to hide. 

“Good,” Felicity whispers. “Good, because I...I want to know how you feel. I want you to feel like you can tell me. I mean, we’re still _friends_...underneath all of this confusing stuff. You can trust me.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, Oliver looks down at her. “Listen, after what happened tonight...I just felt embarrassed. My own father thinks I’m a failure. He...he _hates_ me, Felicity—”

“No,” she frowns, her palm caressing his cheek. “I don’t believe that.”

Oliver shrugs, a tightness in his chest as he numbly replies, “you didn’t hear him.”

“Hey…” she guides his chin, tilting his face, drawing his eyes to her. 

“What I’m trying to say is...my first instinct, after all of that mess, was to come to you. I trust you, Felicity. I trust you with everything I have and I…” he glances down at her, the words catching in his throat. 

And Oliver realizes how easy it would have been for him to say the words. He realizes that he has no reason not to.

_No reason to hide._

“I love you.”

“Oh,” Felicity’s lips part, her eyes widening as she stares up at him. He holds his breath, and she blinks a few times, processing. “You do?”

“Yes, I do,” Oliver chokes out. “I’m in love with you, Felicity. I’ve always loved you. Of course I love yo—”

She cuts him off, her lips crashing against his.

Oliver opens his mouth, welcoming her tongue while she shoves the blankets aside, giving herself room to climb on top of him. His groan breaks the stillness of the room when Felicity starts rolling her hips, rubbing against his hardening length. And it happens so suddenly that it leaves him breathless.

“Condom,” Felicity gasps, pulling her lips away from him, reaching for her nightstand and yanking the drawer open.

For a fleeting moment, he wants to stop her, but then he’s too distracted by her breasts in his face, her chest heaving as he hears her digging around to find a condom. Oliver growls, tugging on the spaghetti strap of her tank top down. And then he quickly ducks his head, wrapping his lips around her nipple. 

Felicity moans above him, her hips grinding harder, her movements rougher. The satisfied moan that rips from her throat sets his whole body ablaze. He sucks harder, scraping his teeth over her sensitive flesh because it makes her keen. “Oh god,” she grits through her teeth, pushing her chest further against his face.

She swiftly pulls back, moving the top half of her body off of him completely. “I know I have one in here,” Felicity huffs, annoyed. His hands tighten on her hips, keeping her steady as she practically hangs off the bed, searching deeper in the drawer. 

“Ah! There you are!” She grins down at him, her hand returning with a condom between her fingers.

Oliver swallows, glancing from her hand to her face. “Felicity,” he whispers. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight? I mean, I didn’t say that I love you so that…” he pinches his lips together, not even wanting to say it out loud; the thought that he would tell her something like that just to get her to sleep with him. 

Of course, he didn’t. And he would never. But he doesn’t want _her_ to think that he just said what he thought she wanted to hear so that he could get laid. 

“Oliver,” Felicity smiles, shaking her head as she sits back on her knees, still straddling him. “Only you would worry about that.” 

In one quick move, she whips her shirt over her head, dropping it on the bed beside them. His hands instantly reach for her breasts, _loving_ the way they fit perfectly in his palms. She chuckles as he rolls one of her nipples between his fingertips, drawing his eyes back up to her face. “Stop thinking,” Felicity whispers, her voice low and sexy. “Just feel.”

And the look in her eyes is just as sexy.

_Enticing._

His hands follow the path of her neck, fingers knotting in her hair as he guides her back down to him, her lips slanting over his. 

Their clothes come off in a frantic rush, only pausing when she accidentally brushes the bandage on his temple in her haste to remove his shirt. “Sorry, sorry,” Felicity mumbles as they each wince. But then Oliver starts kissing her neck and they forget again.

Tearing the condom wrapper open with her teeth, Felicity rolls it on before settling on top of him again. With nothing between them but a condom, his cock twitching as Felicity lowers her body over him, Oliver feels like he can barely breathe. 

Everything they’ve been through that got them there. Everything they’ve shared with each other. Learned from each other. And he knows it’s an important moment.

_Their first time._

He imagined something special; with planning, and romance, and probably candles. This isn’t exactly the way he thought this would happen between them. But in every single way, the sight in front of him is even more perfect. He can feel Felicity’s impatience, her need. And he has to admit that he feels it too, just as hot and desperate as he senses from her.

Felicity rocks her hips, causing his length to slip between her folds, rubbing against her clit, and she mewls.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Oliver confesses under his breath, the words passing straight from his brain to his lips. 

Felicity hums her agreement, letting the tip of his cock tease her entrance, and he squeezes his eyes shut at the sensation, glad that she’s just as eager as him, that she’s already so wet, because he feels like he could come in seconds...with her hips jerking like this, moving in harsh little circles. It’s enough.

“I always imagined that I would take my time,” Oliver’s voice rumbles through his chest, feeling her shiver as it reaches her. “Wait for it to be perfect.”

Felicity sits up, shaking her head as she looks down at him. “I don’t want it to be perfect,” she murmurs. “I want it _now._ I want _you.”_

He clenches his jaw as she reaches between them, gripping his cock and positioning herself above him.

And then she sinks down, slowly taking every inch of him until she’s seated on top. Oliver can’t help but stare; he watches her body, the muscles on her stomach clenching as he fills her. He watches himself disappear inside of her. And when she finally has all of him, he looks up at her face, a pure rush of pleasure combing over his body as he takes in her expression. Felicity’s eyes are closed, her cheeks are flushed, her mouth hanging open.

_Fuck._

It takes all of his self control not to plant his feet on the bed and thrust. But he’s glad that he doesn’t, syncing his breath with hers instead, feeling her walls pulse around his dick as she adjusts to his size. And then she moves. Felicity rotates her hips in a slow, torturous circle. Then she does it again. And again. Her rhythm increases with each rotation. 

It’s hot as hell just to watch, and he can see on her face how much she likes it whenever her clit rubs against his pubic bone. So he covers her sex with his hand, pushing his fingers between her folds and mimicking the roll of her hips with his thumb.

She chokes on her breath, her eyes opening to look down at him. “Oh my god,” Felicity gasps. She rests her palms on his chest, balancing herself as she changes her angle. Felicity grinds back and forth a few times before she picks her hips up and starts bouncing shallowly on top of him, trying to meet his thumb.

“Yes,” Oliver hisses, his fingers quickening. “Oh, fuck...” He grunts when she starts to move more, picking herself up and thrusting back down. Just like in the shower that morning, she seems to be spurred on by his voice, so he keeps talking. “God, Felicity, you look so fucking hot. Yes, baby…” And the more she cries out, her body tensing as she climbs towards an orgasm, the closer he gets to his own. 

He’s right there with her, unable to take his eyes off of her for even a moment. Oliver’s hands move to her ass, guiding her movements while he disappears in and out of her. 

“Oliver! Oooh, god! Oliver! Yes!”

She moves even faster, her hips losing all rhythm. She picks herself up, stopping just short of losing their connection, and then drops back down. And Oliver easily helps her, lifting her hips as she scratches nails against his chest.

Felicity rides him. Without a care. Without shame. _Wildly._

He grunts, feeling his own release quickly chasing hers; a prickle at the base of his spine, his chest constricting, pleasure coursing through his legs and down to his toes.

Finally, he can’t hold back anymore, his hips snapping off the bed to meet her with eager thrusts of his own. The lewd sound of his thighs smacking against her ass mixes with her cries of pleasure and his name. And his next thrust is even more rough, jerking hard off the bed and taking her with him.

“Yes! Yes!” Felicity comes with a silent shout, her body shaking while her inner walls squeeze his cock. 

He fucks her through it, too close to his own orgasm to stop. 

And then Felicity collapses onto his chest, the last waves of her orgasm flowing through her body. His thighs are slick with it, and her thighs are still quivering.

Felicity buries her face in Oliver’s neck, catching her breath, and he turns his cheek into her hair. He bands his arms around her waist, locking his hands together over the small of her back as he continues to drive home, drawing out the last of her pleasure while he fills her to the hilt.

“Oh, Felicity!”

His orgasm engulfs him, his breath and his thrusts shallow, his hold on her tight. 

Oliver squeezes his eyes shut, filling the condom as he comes inside her, letting the wave of pleasure consume him.

He feels it in every inch of his body.

And when he comes down again, there’s an instant, deep sense of satisfaction that just...makes him feel _whole._

Felicity kisses his neck while he attempts to control his still-racing heart. He blinks up at the ceiling, a slow grin pulling at his lips. 

After a few moments, Felicity picks her head up, glancing down at him with a sheepish smile of her own.

“Well?” She raises an eyebrow, “was it everything you thought it would be?”

Oliver snorts, “better. So much better than anything I imagined.” He tucks her hair behind her ear, strands of messy, gorgeous, post-sex hair.

And strangely, it seems like they’ve settled something between them before either of them knew that there was something to be settled. The uncertainty. The fear and hesitation. There’s no reason to feel any of that now. What’s the point...when they’ve never felt closer?

“Yeah,” Felicity nods. “Same here.” She leans down to kiss him, and he can still feel the smile on her lips. Oliver can’t help the pride, the bliss, that swells in his chest. “Although, I definitely knew that sex with you was going to be awesome. Just so you know. Never doubted it for a second, baby.”

“Oh yeah,” Oliver chuckles, “that wasn’t even a question.”

Letting out a happy little moan, Felicity slips off of him, making her way out of the room. And Oliver gets up too, disposing of the condom and then waiting until she comes back before taking his turn in the restroom down the hall.

When he rejoins her, Felicity is back in bed, burrowed under the covers. And to his delight, still naked. He doesn’t bother with his clothes either, crawling under the blankets again. He smiles as he looks into her eyes and she blinks back sleepily. Gathering her back into his arms again, Oliver adjusts them so they’re lying face to face, settling into the same position they’d been in before... _that happened._

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” Felicity whispers back, her voice a little shy. He’d been exhausted as soon as he stepped into her home, but he’s pretty sure he’ll be up for a while longer, his mind still reeling. 

Because he just had sex.

With Felicity. 

_Finally._

And it all happened too fast for him to overthink it. And the woman had just given him the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life. And he’s in love with her. And that means...there isn’t anything that could make this moment better.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

* * *

Felicity wakes up early the next morning, turning away from the sun that shines through her bedroom window with a groan. Her body is sore from the previous night, her head still groggy. But she can feel Oliver a few inches away, and she pulls the blanket up and over her head, retreating towards his warmth. 

As she sprawls out across his chest, Felicity sighs happily, trying to fall back asleep, but her aching muscles are reminding her of what happened last night. Her hot, naked body pressed against Oliver’s helps her to relive those glorious, blissful moments. And the way his hands trace down her spine, relaxing on the small of her back, his fingers twining together and holding her there...just like he’d been holding her a few hours ago...thrusting inside of her until he came. And, well, that just makes her think of all the things they could be doing right now.

_She definitely wants round two. Three, four, and five would be nice, too._

Pulling the blanket back, Felicity smiles as she kisses a path across his chest, up towards his neck. “Oliver,” she whispers in his ear. “Time to wake up.” He groans, clearly not agreeing, but he doesn’t make any move to stop her either. She hums, sucking his earlobe between her lips.

That gets his attention.

Oliver turns his head, his eyes still closed as he growls, his mouth seeking out hers. His first kiss misses, landing on her jaw, which makes Felicity giggle. He rights it quickly, drawing his mouth up to hers, nipping at her bottom lip. And then he grumbles something unintelligible when she kisses him back.

Felicity leans away after a moment, her mouth already open and ready to tease him, but she stops when she finally looks at him, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of his _face._ “What’s wrong?” Oliver frowns, opening his eyes to look up at her. He immediately flinches.

“Ouch,” Felicity flinches too, seeing the pain in his expression. She tips his chin to the side, getting a better look at the bruise on his eye that had formed overnight. “Let me get you some more aspirin. And another band-aid.”

Oliver groans, “if this didn’t hurt so bad, there’s no way I’d let you leave this bed right now.”

“Noted,” Felicity laughs, pressing a few careful kisses to his lips. 

She heads out of the room, grabbing his shirt off the floor and slipping it on as she makes her way to the bathroom. Then she walks to the kitchen, retrieving all of her supplies from the night before and finding a fresh towel. Felicity grabs a couple of bananas and an orange from the bowl of fruit on the counter on her way back, quickly carrying it all in her arms. Thankfully, she manages not to drop anything.

When she walks back into the room, Oliver is sitting up in bed, the blanket covering him and his phone in his hand. He doesn’t glance up as Felicity places everything onto the end of her bed. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Oliver answers distractedly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Thea texted me, she seems pretty worried. Wants to know where I am. I guess my dad must have told them what happened…” he trails off as he finally looks up at her. His eyes flicker down her body, concealed only by his shirt.

Oliver clears his throat, glancing away.

“What?” Felicity looks down at herself, assuming that she must be having a wardrobe malfunction with the way he’s looking at her. She hadn’t bothered with every button on it, but she’d done enough of them, and the shirt was long enough to keep everything covered. 

“Nothing,” Oliver breathes, meeting her eyes again. “You look nice.”

Felicity smirks, toying with the hem of his shirt, “oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Come here…”

When he starts to move towards her, Felicity raises her hand, stopping him. “First, we take care of your eye.”

“And then?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, the suggestion clear in his tone. 

Felicity feels her cheeks getting pink. “And then...we figure out what to tell Thea.

“Right,” Oliver sighs. “I guess I have to go home and face the music at some point.”

The thought makes her sad, too. Especially because he doesn’t look like he wants to deal with it at all. “At some point,” Felicity shrugs, “but it doesn’t have to be today. Thea doesn’t need to know where you are...you should talk to them whenever you’re ready.”

“You’d let me hide out here with you all day?”

She smiles, “well...yeah. That doesn’t sound too bad.”

Oliver shakes his head, “No. It sounds really great, actually.”

Just being together. Focusing on each other. Forgetting about everything else for a while. It’s exactly what they’d been hoping to do with their spring break anyway, isn’t it? Outside of that townhouse, there were problems to deal with. Things to do. People that didn’t know about them and didn’t understand what she had with Oliver. They’d have to deal with it soon enough...all of it. But Felicity doesn’t mind putting it off for a little while longer.

“Alright,” She pats the edge of the mattress, beckoning him over so she can take care of his eye. Her breath catches when he pushes the blanket away, completely naked and not caring in the slightest as he moves to sit at the edge of the bed. 

She adjusts the blanket on his lap before reaching for the bandages. Oliver laughs, “Felicity, we’ve already seen each other naked.”

“I know,” she rolls her eyes. “And it’s distracting. No nudity until I’m done.”

Oliver lets out a low chuckle, his dimple appearing. “Yes, ma’am.”

His phone chimes with text messages a couple of times while she cleans up the cut on his temple, but he doesn’t move to get it, letting her finish. And she’s glad she made him cover up because it deserves her full attention. The bruise spreads over his eyelid and cheekbone, a dark blue color that makes her _furious_...to think that Robert had done something like this to his own son. But Felicity keeps quiet, not wanting to get Oliver upset about it all over again.

“Okay,” she finally breathes, satisfied with the band-aid and the fact that she’d avoided most of the bruising. “Done.”

Oliver’s hands grab Felicity’s hips, and he quickly turns them around, depositing her onto the bed before sliding over her. “Thank god,” he murmurs, his lips finding her neck. “I feel better already.”

Felicity drops her knees open, pushing her hips up, pressing against him. Oliver groans in response, pushing back.

His phone chimes again, and Felicity tosses her hand across the bed, searching for it. “Turn it off,” Oliver grumbles in her ear, the low timbre of his voice making her eyes instantly close. As soon as her hand touches his phone, it chimes again. Felicity huffs, looking at the thing with pure annoyance, her finger moving to silence it. 

“It’s Tommy,” she frowns, noticing all the unread messages. Then her heart drops, remembering what happened last night. “Oh no, isn’t he going to your parents’ house for brunch today?”

“Oh yeah,” Oliver picks his head up. “Shit.” He leans back, taking his phone from Felicity’s hand. “Thea is out with Roy but I suppose I should spare Tommy the tension that’s probably boiling between my parents right now. And always.” Felicity watches as he quickly types out a text, “I’ll just tell him we need to do it another day. There.” He drops his phone again, abandoning it and turning his attention back to her neck.

But Felicity feels a bit guilty. Like she’s hiding something from him. And Oliver promised not to hide things… “I know Tommy was spying on you at Table Salt last night.”

Oliver pauses, pulling back to look at her, his expression curious. “Okay...I mean, it’s Tommy. He’s kind of awful at being a stalker. But how did you know?”

“He called me,” Felicity blurts. “From his car. _In the act._ But I’m innocent, I swear. I had nothing to do with it and did not help him with his creepy plan in any way. He just wanted me to know what was going on with you and Helena. I didn’t know what he was doing until he was already doing it.”

Raising an eyebrow, Oliver stares down at her. “My best friend was spying on me...and giving my girlfriend updates?”

“Pretty much,” Felicity smirks. “He’s totally on team Felicity. Might even be captain at this point. Maybe he has a trunk full of team Felicity t-shirts in his sketchy stalker sports car. Just so you’re aware.” 

Oliver frowns down at her. “Hey. I want to be team captain.”

“Hm. Okay then,” she agrees easily. “You’re captain. Welcome to team Felicity.” 

“Oh honey,” Oliver shakes his head, giving her a look. “Haven’t you been paying attention at all? I’ve always been team Felicity.”

She glances at him, skeptical. “I mean...you did just call me your girlfriend, so I suppose that might be true.” 

“Ah,” he smirks, “you caught that, huh?” 

“Uh huh,” she winks.

“Well, in my head, you’ve been my girlfriend for a while now. So I guess it’s not terrible that this is the first time I’ve let it slip. Seems reasonable after what we did last night and um, what we said.” 

“Mmm, very reasonable,” Felicity murmurs, hooking her legs around his waist and tilting his face down to hers. “But just to make sure we’ve got everything straight here, you know, since a lot did happen last night...I’m definitely your girlfriend.”

“Definitely,” he confirms, his lips grazing hers.

“You love me,” she whispers, her fingers brushing through his hair.

“A lot,” he adds, his eyes softening.

“Good. Anything else we need to refresh our memories on?” Felicity grins innocently, already knowing what he has in mind. Because it’s the same thing on her mind.

Oliver kisses her, his mouth fusing slowly to hers. “Oh...just one more thing,” he mumbles quietly as his hands slip underneath her shirt.


	8. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But whenever Felicity kisses him, Oliver knows everything that he needs to know. 
> 
> He has everything that he needs to have.
> 
> It’s a kind of certainty that he’s never felt before. An inner confidence in himself and his own feelings. A simple, undeniable truth about them. 
> 
> There’s a future here. There’s something between them that will always just...be.

It had been the perfect weekend. Aside from the black eye he’s been sporting, of course. But everything else, everything with Felicity, is amazing. So amazing that when he wakes up on Sunday morning, surrounded by blankets and her skin like he’s been all weekend, he’s already sad that it’ll have to end.

Felicity’s mom will be home from her sister’s house tomorrow, and he’d promised his own mother that he would stop by the house so they could talk. As nice as the break had been, he and Felicity both knew that they’d have to get back to reality. And today was the day.

He has never hated a Sunday morning as much as this one.

Obviously, that doesn’t make him get up any faster. His girlfriend is still asleep on his chest, after all. Her quiet, adorable snores that fill the room keep him just where he is. Her hair tickling his neck and chin keep him from opening his eyes.

He has never loved a Sunday morning as much as this one.

Oliver carefully moves a strand of Felicity’s hair out of her face, observing her quietly in the early morning light. He can’t help himself from daydreaming. Imagining a time when _this_ can be his view every single morning. When the idea of getting out of bed won’t be so miserable, because he’ll have _her_ by his side. Their bed won’t be a bubble that he doesn’t want to pop. It’ll be a home. Something he can always return to.

Felicity nestles her nose into the crook of his neck, her breath blowing across his skin, and he gently presses his lips against her forehead.

God, even when that day comes, he’ll still hate the idea of leaving his bed as much as he does now.

With a regretful sigh, Oliver starts to untangle himself, pulling his leg out from between hers. Slipping out of her arms, he gently shifts her head to rest on an actual pillow instead of his shoulder. Work and his crazy family aren’t motivation enough to make him move, but he wants to make Felicity breakfast in bed.

She didn’t have much in the house, leaving them to eat a frozen pizza for lunch the day before and order takeout for dinner. But he knows she has pancake mix, and he’d been eyeing her waffle maker ever since he found it in one of the cupboards during their search for food. 

With a plan in place, Oliver sneaks out of Felicity’s room, stopping by the little closet in the hallway where the washer and dryer are stacked, knowing Felicity threw his clothes in yesterday and they never bothered with them since. He smiles as he pulls his boxers on, all too proud of the very amazing, very _naked_ way they’d spent their time. 

Walking into the kitchen, Oliver is still smiling. He even catches himself humming as he finds everything he needs and starts mixing the batter. Apparently, it’s just the effect Felicity has on him. Not even his dad, or their argument, or the aching, black and blue bruise on his face seem as bad when Felicity is the one there to comfort him.

Their bond is stronger than it’s ever been before. And that makes him feel like he can conquer anything. Like _they_ can conquer anything. He knows there’s still a lot that Felicity is worried about, but after the weekend they’d just shared, he’s confident that nothing could break them.

And it’s a _good_ feeling.

One he wants to trust. One he wants to always have.

“Good morning,” he hears Felicity’s voice from behind him.

“Morning,” Oliver answers distractedly, keeping his eyes on the batter, trying to pour it carefully without spilling. She clears her throat just as he’s putting the bowl back on the counter. 

Oliver suddenly freezes, realizing that the voice came from the front door of the apartment, not Felicity’s bedroom. And that it wasn’t Felicity’s voice at all. He whips around, his heart dropping into his stomach when he sees Donna standing in the doorway, her eyebrows raised and her hand still on the door. 

“Ms. Smoak,” he finally chokes out, catching the woman’s gaze as it lowers down his body. He quickly reaches for something, anything, to make this moment less embarrassing. His fingers bang into a pan that’s sitting on top of the stove, and Oliver grabs it. Holding the pan in front of himself, he’s not really sure if it helps or just makes this encounter even more awkward, but he’s already committed to it. 

““Oliver!” She waves her hand at him. “Hi, honey. Sorry, I’m surprised to see you. I didn’t know you were coming over!”

He blinks at the woman as she closes the door and comes inside. 

_What?_

“Um...I’m just—uh...” he searches his brain for an excuse. Not that there’s any believable lie he could give that would explain why he’s cooking breakfast in their kitchen. Without clothes on. And yet, the weirdest part about it is that Donna doesn’t ask. 

Once the surprise wears off, she drops her bag by the door and walks over to the kitchen, looking down at what he’s making. “Ohhh, waffles!” She claps, offering him a wide grin, “I can never use that thing without burning them. Poor Felicity was raised on the frozen kind from a box. I’m sure she’ll love this!”

“Ms. Smoak,” he gapes, coming up blank. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

Donna snorts in disbelief, giving him a look that tells him that she knows exactly what it is. And _it_ is exactly what it looks like.

“I, uh,” Oliver stammers, trying and failing to recover. “Are you hungry?” 

_Nice._

“Well, sure!” Donna’s smile returns. She walks over to the table, taking a seat and checking through the small pile of mail that’s waiting for her. 

He shakes his head, keeping the pan in place as he unplugs the waffle maker. That one is definitely ruined anyway. He’ll have to start over...once he has some more clothes on. “Let me just, uh…” Oliver gestures towards the hallway, “get dressed.”

Rather than asking why he’s _undressed_ in her kitchen in the first place, Donna just hums, her eyes roaming over his body again. “If that’s what you’d prefer,” she nods.

Oliver huffs out a laugh, turning to make his escape just as Felicity is coming around the corner into the kitchen. She’s wrapped in the sheet from her bed and almost bumps into him. She notices the pan he’s holding at his waist first, her mouth already opening to ask. And then she seems to notice Donna out of the corner of her eye. 

“Mom!” Felicity breathes, her eyes swinging between Oliver and her mother. Her hand tightening at her chest, clutching onto the sheet.

Thank god she’d taken the time to cover herself with it, considering she hadn’t yesterday. 

“Oh,” Felicity yelps, “mom, you’re home early! And Oliver, you’re...half naked.”

Donna waves at Felicity, still totally unphased by all of this as she squeals, “hi, baby!”

Felicity’s cheeks swiftly change from pink to red as she waves back, mumbling an uncomfortable, “hey, mom. Oliver and I are going to go get dressed now.”

He looks to Felicity for an answer, and she shrugs, grabbing his hand to pull him back down the hallway. “Um...in all the excitement this weekend,” she whispers, “I forgot to tell you that I told my mom about us.” 

_Oh._

“Sweetheart,” Donna stops them before they get more than a couple of feet out of the room. She pinches her lips together, pointing at Oliver’s face and frowning. “What happened to your eye?” 

“Long story,” Felicity answers for him. “Nothing to worry about. Be right back!” She pulls on his hand again, and Oliver quickly tosses the pan onto the counter before following her lead.

He waits until they’ve gotten the rest of his clothes from the dryer and are safely back in her bedroom before he asks, “so...you told your mom? About you and me...being together?”

“Yes,” Felicity groans. “We had a really long talk that morning after we had to go pick her up from Verdant. I told her that we kept in touch while you were in Russia and we’re still trying to figure everything out. I meant to tell you that she knows but it just...slipped my mind. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Oliver shakes his head. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You can tell whoever you want about us. I’m glad you have your mom to talk to.”

For him, it’s really just Tommy that knows. And he trusts his friend with a lot of things, but giving useful dating advice is really not one of those things. If Felicity wants her mother’s opinion, who is he to have a problem with it?

“Actually,” he grins, “I’m happy that you told her.” _Next up, his family._

“You are?” Felicity cocks her head to the side.

Oliver nods, “I guess I need to introduce myself,”

“My mom has known you as long as I have,” she scoffs back.

“I meant as your boyfriend,” Oliver quips with a wink. 

They get dressed as fast as they can; Oliver being grateful that his clothes are at least fresh from the wash so he doesn’t have to face Donna again looking like he’d just had a one night stand(one weekend stand?) with her daughter, and Felicity being grateful that she owns a shirt that covers all the hickeys he’d left on her body. As they make their way back into the kitchen, she takes his hand again, her fingers knotting through his. And then she smiles up at him.

_Conquer. Anything._

Breakfast goes much more smoothly once Oliver relaxes, the fact that he now has clothes on in front of Felicity’s mother does a lot to ease the tension he’d been feeling. And knowing that Donna knows about them helps a lot, too… After a while, it actually feels normal. Donna asks about their relationship, how things started to evolve between them, and offers a knowing smile when Felicity explains that they’d ‘waited long enough to explore the feelings that were always there.’ Eventually, they tell her about what happened with his dad, leaving out most of the details since Oliver’s black eye indicates the gist of it.

And Donna responds by patting his hand, her voice a little stiff as she tells him, “no parent should treat their child like that, not even a father with his grown son.”

“Thank you…” Oliver whispers, taken aback by the conviction in her words. The anger.

The Smoak women are fierce. And sincere, and protective, and… _magnetic._ It honestly has him feeling a little overwhelmed, sitting there between them and wondering how he’d managed to gain that kind of loyalty from either of the women. He’s not quite sure that he deserves it yet...but it feels incredible.

* * *

Walking into Queen Consolidated has never felt as bad as it does that morning. 

As a kid, Oliver used to love visiting his dad at the office. He loved to just sit and watch him work, listen in on his phone calls and pretend that he understood the important things he would discuss with his investors. He loved it, admired the way his dad could convince anyone of anything. The way he commanded a room. And then when he got older and started working at QC himself, he felt like a god walking those halls. 

He’s always been untouchable there. Protected by his last name. It’s been an excuse for his behavior and his mistakes for so long that Oliver has never had to feel unsure of himself. Even when he was wrong. Because he’d learned how to bluff, how to control the smoke and the mirrors until things went his way. 

And he has always loved work because of it. He loved the fast pace of the building. The problems that would arise first thing in the morning and be settled by the end of the day.

But that morning, there’s a part of him that wants to turn around and leave before he’s even made it to the elevators. It’s not like he hasn’t ditched work before. But if Russia was his fresh start, then returning to Starling is his chance to show the company, not just his father, that they can take him seriously. Bailing on his first day back wouldn’t really send that message. 

Luckily, Oliver doesn’t have much to do that morning besides tying up some loose ends with Curtis and the team in Russia. Then he has a meeting with his dad this afternoon to discuss their progress in the Moscow branch.

Of course, the black eye that he’s sporting won’t earn him any favors or respect. Although a simple bar fight excuse is easy to tell, and easy for everyone to believe. Hopefully the work he’s done can speak for itself, even if his face makes it seem like he hasn’t grown up at all.

As Oliver walks down the hall, he catches a few glances, but he just keeps his eyes forward and his chin high, not bothering with the distracting small talk that he typically would engage in. 

A man in the elevator is the first with enough courage to ask about the bruise, and he gives the same excuse to him that he ends up giving to his secretary and the few employees who stop by his office throughout the morning. As expected, they all nod along and swallow the lie without question.

He spends most of the morning alone, checking in on various projects and replying to emails that had piled up over the weekend.

By the time he finally has a chance to breathe, it’s lunch time. With a relieved smile, Oliver gets up to close his office door before calling Felicity. He hasn’t had a moment to text her all morning. And he’s no longer surprised to realize that a few hours without her results in him missing her.

He’ll have to get used to that now.

“Hello?”

Oliver frowns at the voice that answers on the fourth ring, pulling his phone back to check that he called the right number. “Tommy?”

“Hey man!”

“What are you—” 

“Give me that!” His girlfriend’s voice cuts in from the background. “Oliver?”

“Hey…um, I was just calling to see if you wanted to meet up for lunch. You’re with Tommy?”

_He asked, not in a jealous way at all._

“Yeah,” Felicity answers. “He came by after you left for work this morning and asked if I could help him pick out a birthday present for Thea. So, we’re shopping.”

“Oh. And he’s answering your phone?”

_He asked, not in a jealous way at all._

Oliver rolls his eyes, knowing it _sounds_ jealous because he _is_ a little jealous. Although he’d probably be jealous of anyone that gets to spend time with Felicity while he’s stuck at work. 

“Yeah,” she laughs. “I was trying on clothes and left my purse with him. We’re only a couple blocks from QC. Do you want to meet us at Big Belly Burger?”

“Yes! I’m starving!” Tommy shouts from the background.

“Sure,” Oliver tries not to sound too disappointed that the invitation seems to include his friend. “We should probably talk about Thea’s party anyway, right?”

“Oh god,” Felicity groans. “You’re right. We only have this week to plan it. But I’ve talked to most of her friends and they’re down to do something. Probably on Saturday night? I guess we just have to decide what.”

Oliver scoffs, “she said she wants something low key. I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Oh, honey,” Felicity sighs, “you should know that ‘low key’ to your sister does not mean the same thing as it would to anyone else.”

He sighs back, standing up from his chair and grabbing his coat. “That’s true. Well, I can be there in ten minutes. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. See you there.”

Since Big Belly Burger is just down the street, Oliver decides to walk, happy for the chance to stretch his legs. It’s almost too easy to imagine a routine like this. Maybe someday, he and Felicity will have a standing lunch date every week where they talk about anything besides work; a peaceful hour in a quiet restaurant that they dedicate just for them.

The thought makes him grin like a fool, but he can’t stop it.

As he reaches Big Belly Burger, Oliver notices Felicity and Tommy coming around the corner, heading in his direction as they bicker back and forth, their words lost in the noise of the city. He shakes his head, stopping outside the door of the restaurant to wait for them.

When Felicity notices him, her face breaks out into the warmest smile he’s ever seen, her eyes lighting up as she walks a little bit faster to reach him. And to his surprise, Felicity skips right up to him, pushing up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. “Hi,” she beams.

Oliver smirks back, opening the door for her, “hey, you.” He keeps his eyes on his girlfriend as she walks by, throwing him a wink. Then he feels a light smack against the back of his head, knocking the smile right off his face. “Ow,” he growls, turning to glare at Tommy.

His friend blinks back innocently, shrugging as he walks through the door Oliver is still holding open. “I would have hit you a bit harder,” Tommy makes a face, reaching up to poke Oliver’s tender eye, but he swats his hand away. “But this shiner actually makes me feel a little bit bad for you.”

Rolling his eyes, Oliver ignores the comment, following him into the restaurant. Felicity picks a booth by the window, sliding into the seat before looking up at Oliver with a smile. And Tommy slides in beside her, sighing as he instantly grabs a menu and starts to look it over. 

Felicity looks between them, her eyebrows furrowed. Then she narrows her eyes at Tommy. “What are you doing?”

At the question, Tommy glances up at Oliver, as if she was talking to him. “Yeah, Ollie,” he raises his eyebrows, gesturing to the seat across from them. “What are you doing? Sit.”

“Tommy,” Oliver grits out, growing quickly irritated by how close his friend is squeezed into the booth next to _his_ girlfriend. “I’m not in the mood for the games today, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” Tommy lifts his hands innocently, then moves around the table and plops down into the opposite booth with a sigh. He picks up the menu again, looking it over as if nothing happened. Giving him one final dirty look, Oliver takes his place in the booth beside Felicity, relaxing as soon as he feels her hand on his knee, her body leaning against his. And Tommy waits until they’re settled before muttering under his breath, “didn’t think it was a big deal since you two are just fucking around. I mean, can’t blame me for being confused.”

“Tommy,” Oliver levels him with a glare. “Have I told you lately that you need to mind your own business?”

“Yes, you have. You always do,” his friend answers instantly. “But the way I see it; you won’t define your relationship or your feelings for her, and you won’t let other guys sit next to her...so it just doesn’t make things very clear for other dudes, you know?” He tilts his head to Felicity, giving her a quick wink. “I told you man, if you don’t get your shit together, I’m swooping in.”

Felicity leans across the table to shove him, her mouth falling open. “Can you stop talking about me like I’m some kind of toy you two have to fight over? I’m right here! And we did...I mean, we are...” she turns to Oliver, her eyes wide as she looks up at him for help. 

With a smile, Oliver leans in and catches her lips with his own; wanting to assure her more than anything else, not caring in that moment if Tommy or anyone else saw. They did define things. Clearly. And they are together. Without a doubt. Not that it’s any of stupid Tommy Merlyn’s business, but Oliver doesn’t really mind rubbing a little of PDA in his face since apparently, his friend has decided to be more annoying than usual today. 

As Oliver pulls back, he smiles at Felicity, lost for a moment in the way she’s biting her lip, her eyes taking an extra moment to open again.

_Oh, if she liked that kiss...he has plenty more._

“Felicity and I _did_ talk about it,” Oliver nods once, glancing back towards Tommy. “We’re together. Not that it’s any of your business. I’m just telling you so that you’ll stop being obnoxious.”

Leaning back in his seat, Tommy grins, his eyes bouncing between them. “As in you’re dating? She’s your girlfriend?”

“Yes,” Oliver and Felicity answer at the same time.

“I knew it. Felicity Smoak, official girlfriend of Oliver Queen. You’re the first of your kind, you know. As in, a girlfriend that Oliver actually _wants_ to be dating. But don’t worry, remember what I said. If he screws things up, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Tommy,” Oliver raises an eyebrow, “I swear to god, if you don’t knock it off, I’ll give you an eye to match mine.”

His friend frowns, observing him quietly for a moment before sighing, as if in defeat. “Sorry. Felicity warned me about...that. What happened? She wouldn’t say.”

“My dad,” Oliver keeps his voice low, looking around the dining room.

“Damn,” Tommy’s shoulders slump, his eyes closing. “I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to give you so much shit today. When Felicity said you had a black eye, I just thought...I don’t know, that some loser found out you slept with his girlfriend or something. I didn’t even think…” his eyes dart to Felicity, and he leans in closer to her as he mumbles, “you could have given me a little more context before I came in here and made an ass of myself.”

Felicity just shrugs, “I didn’t know you planned on making an ass of yourself.”

“Well, you should have!” Tommy scoffs, “I always make an ass of myself!”

She smiles back at him, batting her eyes innocently, “well then maybe you should learn how to behave like a grown man instead of a child.”

Shaking his head, Tommy offers a devilish grin, “but where’s the fun in that?” Felicity opens her mouth to respond, clearly ready with a quick comeback, but Tommy doesn’t give her the chance. “So,” he claps his hands together, turning his attention to Oliver again. “I’m going to assume you don’t want to talk about it—”

“Correct,” Oliver chimes in.

“So let’s discuss this party business then. Felicity and I have already decided that clowns are out of the question.”

Oliver glances from Tommy to Felicity, wondering when, or why or how, the two of them became so buddy-buddy. “Why don’t we just have dinner at my parents’ house? We can invite Roy and some of her high school friends that she hasn’t seen in a while.”

“Too boring,” they both answer in unison.

Narrowing his eyes, Oliver wags his finger between them, “just so we’re clear, I don’t think I like this.”

Felicity rolls her eyes, nudging her knee against his leg. But Tommy smirks proudly, apparently content to taunt him again. “Why? Because you’re jealous?”

“Knock it off, Merlyn,” Felicity warns. “Anyway, I sort of have an idea for a little, lowkey-in-a-Thea-kind-of-way-party. Something she said when we were out at the bar the other night made me think of it.”

Oliver nods, shifting to drape his arm over the back of the booth, giving Felicity his attention. 

“Well, we were talking about how we tried to camp out in your backyard one night when we were kids. I was thinking we could invite everyone over to the mansion for a barbecue, buy some kegs, have a fire, set up tents in the backyard for everyone to stay over if they want to. Of course, it’s completely up to you, Oliver. Your house.”

“Felicity,” Oliver smiles, “that sounds perfect. I think Thea would love something like that.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees, “awesome idea, Smoak!” He holds his hand up for a high five, which Felicity happily accepts. “Saturday night?”

“Sure,” Felicity shrugs.

With a nod, Tommy pulls his phone out, his fingers moving. “I’ll start getting the word out.” 

With his friend distractedly texting, Oliver leans a little closer to Felicity, “I don’t remember you and Thea ever camping in the backyard,” he tells her with a slight frown.

Felicity scoffs, “that’s why I said we ‘tried.’ We were only out there for a couple of hours before we started hearing noises in the woods and ran inside, convinced it was a bear. I think we just ended up watching movies the rest of the night with you two.”

Tommy stops typing, looking up at Oliver sheepishly. And Oliver feels his cheeks growing red as he suddenly remembers that night. Not missing the look they share, Felicity’s eyes bounce between the boys. “What?”

“We were the bear,” Tommy answers in a huff, pinching his lips together to keep from smiling.

Felicity laughs, “what are you talking about, Merlyn?”

“I remember that,” Tommy tells her. “In the woods...that was us. Ollie and I were trying to freak you guys out. We went out and started making those noises to scare you so you’d come inside and hang out with us. We were the bear.”

Felicity’s mouth drops open, but then she laughs, picturing how much of a kick they must have gotten out of it at the time. She shakes her head, feigning insult as she makes a point to shove both of them, “you jerks!”

* * *

He was supposed to meet with his dad at 2 o’clock. They’d scheduled a time. Oliver showed up to Robert’s office at that time. Robert...not so much.

As 3 o’clock approaches, Oliver stands up from his chair, making eye contact with Robert’s receptionist through the glass wall. The young girl makes a face at him, raising her shoulders to let him know that she has no idea where he is. Which means she doesn’t know of anything on his schedule that might be making him late. Which means that Robert is either blowing him off, or purposely avoiding him. Which means...that his father is a dick.

Although, Oliver was already well aware of that fact. His face was proof of that.

He walks around his dad’s desk, finding some paper and writing him a quick note that read: _Hi Mr. Queen, I stopped by for our meeting… you must have forgotten. No worries, I know you’re busy. Please email Curtis Holt if you’d like to reschedule a time with me. Thanks, OQ._

It’s petty. He really doesn’t care.

The receptionist gives him nothing more than an apologetic glance as he passes by again, and he simply waves in response. There are no words. Every time he thinks his dad can’t stoop any lower, he always proves him wrong. He always manages to reach new levels of being awful and it’s probably time that Oliver stops being so surprised by it. And maybe it’s time to stop expecting anything from the man. God only knows it will end in the same disappointment that it always has.

He has plenty of work that he needs to get done in the next few days if he wants to have any time to help Felicity with Thea’s party and then enjoy the weekend. But Oliver really doesn’t feel like sitting in his office all night, so he packs up his laptop and gets out of Queen Consolidated as fast as he can.

As Oliver walks to the parking lot, he’s grateful that he only passes a few employees, faking his usual smile and heading straight for his car. Once he climbs in, he closes his eyes, taking a moment to appreciate the silence.

Even though he knows that Thea is out with some of her friends and Moira is at a pilates class, the last thing he wants to do is go home. And the first thing he wants to do is call Felicity.

Oliver pulls out his phone, making the call without second guessing himself.

She’s his girlfriend.

He can do that now.

He’s allowed to need her. He’s allowed to rely on her. He’s allowed to call her just because he had a shitty day and he wants to hear her voice. And that means everything to him. 

Felicity answers on the third ring, “hey! Just the man I wanted to talk to. I’m shopping for some stuff for the party. I figured you and Tommy could handle dinner, and liquor, and the tents...I bought everything to make s'mores though. And I have decorations. Plenty of decorations. How many lanterns do you think I should buy? I figured just a few to put on the tents, but maybe we need more? It’s going to be dark, you know?”

Oliver huffs out a laugh, feeling better already as he imagines Felicity perusing the outdoors section of a superstore somewhere. Looking at camping equipment as if she’s preparing for a trip to the Rockies rather than a party in the backyard. “There are plenty of lights out back, honey.”

“I know,” she sasses back, and he can tell that she’s rolling her eyes by the tone of her voice. “But we’re _camping_ , remember? Or at least, trying to give the _illusion_ of camping. The darker, the better. We’ll have the bonfire…but I think I’ll get a few extra lanterns just in case.”

He can’t help but smile as he hears her dropping more into her shopping cart.

“Hey,” she says gently after a moment. “You okay? How’d your meeting with your dad go this afternoon?”

It’d only been a few hours since they had lunch with Tommy at Big Belly Burger, but it felt like the last few hours of his day had drained him. He’s not really sure how he expected to just go back to his regular work week after spending a whole weekend at Felicity’s, not wearing clothes, in bed with her. 

Truth be told, Oliver misses her something fierce already. And he knows it has everything to do with what changed in their relationship. He wants his girlfriend. He wants to hear the way she giggles when he kisses behind her ear again. He wants to look into her eyes and hear her say that she loves him.

_And it’s only been one day._

God. He can’t imagine how he’s supposed to go back to Russia in a week.

“It didn’t go, actually. He didn’t show up.”

“What?” Felicity snaps. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Felicity, it’s okay.”

“That fracking coward!”

Shaking his head, Oliver relaxes into his seat, somehow feeling like the weight in his chest is lifted, just knowing that Felicity Smoak is on his side. “I just left the office. I wanted to see if you were free tonight? I really don’t feel like going home. Maybe we could get dinner, go see a movie or something?”

“Meet me at my mom’s,” Felicity sighs. “She’s working late. We can cook. Relax. What do you feel like eating?”

Oliver smiles, loving the sound of everything she says. “You finish shopping for the party. I’ll run home to change and grab a bottle of wine out of the cellar. And I’ll bring dinner.”

“Sounds like a date, Mr. Queen.”

Her words and the sultry tone of her voice make his cheeks feel warm. “Well,” Oliver answers slowly. “It’s not the first date I had in mind, but I think I’m okay with things not going the way I expected them to go when it comes to you.”

“Oh, you are now, huh?”

He clears his throat, “very much so. I wasn’t expecting the last couple of days to happen, but I loved every second of... _that_.”

The intimate, sensual, playful sex that satisfied him on every level of his being. And all the feelings that became more intense because of it.

“I suppose one thing we _can_ expect is more of... _that_.”

A chill ran down his spine, remembering the way Felicity touched him; gentle, soothing fingers that slid across his skin one moment and hot, sharp nails that dug into his back the next. Her lips caressing the corner of his mouth when he moved inside of her slowly, and biting down on his shoulder when his thrusts grew harder.

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” Oliver answers, his voice a bit more growly than he’d meant to sound.

He takes his time driving home, changing out of his suit into jeans and a sweater, and of course, choosing the right bottle of wine. Then he walks upstairs, grabs a picnic basket from the closet in the hallway, and heads into the kitchen to see what he can find.

There’s cheese and crackers, which he loads into the basket after the bottle of red wine. He adds a couple of apples and a few cookies that Raisa must have made, then he starts pulling things out of the fridge to make sandwiches. 

“Can I help you with that?”

Oliver startles, spinning around to see Raisa looking at him, her head tilted to the side as she silently seems to ask; _and what on earth are you doing?_

“No,” he shakes his head. It’s past the time she usually goes home. And he’d known that the rest of his family wouldn’t be home. “No, I’m all set, I was just—” he gapes at her for a moment, looking at her with the same wide eyed expression he’d give her when he was a kid and she’d catch him with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner. 

_Busted._

“I’m having dinner tonight with a friend. A girl.”

For someone who has always used deflection and charm to get himself out of trouble, he’s really lacking in both at the moment. But Raisa has always been harder for him to lie to than anyone else. “Oh,” Raisa approaches him, peeking into the basket. Without a word, she comes to stand beside him, fixing another sandwich while he finishes the first. Then she wraps them and puts them into the basket for him, holding up a finger before opening the refrigerator. Oliver just watches as she takes out a pitcher of lemonade and fills a thermos, adding that in as well. 

Raisa closes the basket and hands it to him. “It’s the lavender lemonade that she likes. I heard she was looking for the recipe last time she was here, please let Felicity know that she can come over any time for it.”

His eyes widen even more, his breath catching in his throat. “Oh, Felicity isn’t—um...”

“It’s okay, Oliver,” Raisa gives him a kind smile. “Your secret is safe with me.” She pats her hand against his cheek, scrunching her nose in that warm, loving way of hers. “For what it’s worth, I’ve always had a feeling that you two were meant for each other. You both deserve happiness.”

“Thank you, Raisa…” he whispers back, his voice raw with the reminder of just how much love and support the woman has shown. His parents might not have been the most affectionate or present parents, but Raisa was there. And it mended the gaps that Robert has left over the years just as it mends a piece of his heart now.

“Go,” she gently pinches his cheek as she always does. “Be with her.”

The look that flashes in her eyes makes him wonder if she’d stayed late the other night, too...if she’d seen or heard the argument that happened between him and his father. But it’s not until he’s sitting behind the wheel of his car and glances in the rearview mirror that he remembers the bruise on his face. And he realizes that Raisa didn’t question it. She didn’t even bat an eye.

She knows. Just like she knows about Felicity.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly under his breath as he drives to Felicity’s. Apparently, the woman caught on to more than he thought she did. Her acceptance makes his heart feel _lighter_. If Raisa approves of him and Felicity being together, why wouldn’t everyone else? 

Maybe he and Felicity truly had nothing to worry about. Maybe the pieces were coming into place because they were always meant to. It gave him hope.

Oliver parked on the street by Donna’s townhouse, arriving just on time to see Felicity carrying the bags from her shopping trip inside. He grabbed the picnic basket and hopped out of his car, quickly jogging across the street to help her.

Seeing that her trunk and backseat are full of bags, along with the ones she’s carrying, Oliver raises his eyebrows. “This is all for the party?”

“Um...mostly. I might have indulged and gone on a little shopping spree for myself at the mall.” Felicity frowns, giving him an adorable pout, “but I’m about to graduate. I deserve it.”

He grins back at her, answering sincerely, “of course you do.”

They bring everything into the townhouse, carrying most of it straight to her bedroom and leaving it on the floor. Felicity insists that she’ll take care of it all later. “I’m starving,” she hums as they walk back out into the kitchen. Peeking into the picnic basket he’d left on the counter, she groans. “Oliver. This looks amazing.”

“I thought we could go to the park down the street. Or stay here if you’d rather.” His eyes flicker to the couch, instantly reminded of the last time he’d been sitting there, Felicity in his lap while she kissed him senseless.

She seems to read his mind, a knowing smirk on her lips as she plucks out a piece of cheese and takes a bite. “It’s a gorgeous night,” she shrugs. “Let’s go to the park.”

Picking up the basket, Oliver follows Felicity as she kicks off her shoes, exchanging them for flip flops, and then she grabs a blanket off the couch while he waits by the door. 

It’s a short walk to the park, just around the corner from her apartment. The air is warm, and with the crickets chirping and a sky of stars above them, it makes for a peaceful stroll. Especially when Felicity reaches for his hand as they enter the park, guiding him to a small hill where she eventually stops. She glances around, assessing the spot that’s well-lit by the lighting on the path but secluded in the trees. And then she gives herself a nod of approval before laying out the blanket.

Oliver starts unpacking the food, chuckling as he pulls out the thermos of lemonade and remembers what Raisa had said.

“What?” Felicity asks.

He shakes the thermos, “Raisa made lavender lemonade. She wanted me to bring it for you and let you know that you can come by the house any time you want to get the recipe from her.”

“Oh, good!” Felicity hurries to sit down, her fingers reaching for the lemonade. He passes it to her silently, waiting for his words to click. And when they do, her face drops. “Wait,” she pauses, giving up on unscrewing the thermos to stare at him. “Raisa…?”

Oliver smirks, “oh yeah, she’s much more observant than I thought she was. Either that, or we’re not as subtle as we think we are.”

“She knows?”

“She definitely knows. She caught me putting a picnic together and apparently felt certain that it was for you...enough that she called me out, anyway.”

Felicity huffs out a breath of surprise, her shoulders slumping as she accepts the news. “Raisa knows.”

“Yup.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

He glances up at her, pausing as he unwrapped his sandwich. “No. I’m relieved, to be honest. Why? Does it bother you?”

Felicity shrugs, “no, I don’t think so. Not really. I guess I just wasn’t mentally prepared for it. She’s part of your family, you know? She matters to you. Her _opinion_ matters…”

Oliver scoffs, “Raisa loves you, Felicity. She just wants us to be happy.” He purses his lips, stopping himself from telling her about Raisa’s comment that she thought him and Felicity are _meant to be._

The idea of ending up with Felicity doesn’t scare him. Settling down with her sounds like a dream to him. It’s a future he never imagined for himself until he started to imagine it with _her_ by his side. 

Things are still new between them, though. And he’s not sure if that would freak her out or not.

“Well,” Felicity sighs. “I’m very happy.”

Oliver watches her for a moment, his eyes searching her face. She smiles, leaning down to kiss him as if she knows it will convince him that she means it. And it does. He deepens the kiss, his hand grazing her neck as he slants his mouth against hers. His thumb traces slowly along the curve of Felicity’s jaw, making her moan as she opens her mouth for him.

Before he can get too carried away, Felicity pulls back, biting her lip and looking down at him. 

“You’re trouble, Oliver Queen.”

“You’re irresistible, Felicity Smoak.”

She chuckles, her eyes glinting with pleasure. She likes the fact that he finds her irresistible. And he likes that she likes it. Surely, the physical aspect of their relationship is the newest thing for them to navigate. And yet, it feels the most natural. He could spend all day trying to read her mind. Trying to figure out how she feels. He could examine it, pour over it, stress about it until he can’t think straight. 

But whenever Felicity kisses him, Oliver knows everything that he needs to know. 

He has everything that he needs to have.

It’s a kind of certainty that he’s never felt before. An inner confidence in himself and his own feelings. A simple, undeniable truth about _them._

There’s a future here. There’s something between them that will always just...be.

And he craves that security just as much as he craves the sparks that fly every time she presses her lips to his.

“So,” Felicity says as they finally focus on eating. “What happened with your dad today?”

He tells her about going to Robert’s office, waiting for an hour for him to show up, the embarrassment he felt when he never did. He tells her how detached he feels from the man who raised him. He doesn’t shy away from the sympathy she shows him, or the sadness he feels about all of it. Felicity shoulders it like it's her own, healing him as she draws his head into her lap, combing her fingers through his hair and simply listening. He doesn’t shy away from admitting that he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to forgive Robert, either. Not for punching him, not for the things he’d said that night, not for cheating on his mom as long as he can remember, not for being an absent father. Not for any of it. 

Once he’s finished talking, he glances up at Felicity, somewhat skeptical that unloading his disappointment, his frustration, and his confusion was the best idea. She stays quiet for a moment, leaving the crickets and the cars passing on a nearby highway his only response. 

But then she brushes her finger along his jaw, tilting his face until he’s looking up at her. And she whispers something to him, her voice soft but serious, that Oliver never forgets. “I know that for most of your life, you’ve felt like Robert has some kind of control over you, and I don’t doubt that he did. But you don’t have to let him. Not anymore. You’re your own person. And I think I know that person pretty well. You’re not him, baby. Whatever you want your relationship with your dad to be, whether you forgive and forget, or you keep your distance, or you cut him out of your life completely...you make the rules. He doesn’t.”

They talk for a while longer, Felicity understanding perfectly when he starts feeling emotionally drained from thinking about his dad. And she effortlessly shifts the conversation, distracting him while she fills him in on her plans for the rest of her final semester. 

He listens without interrupting, amused by her babbling. She’s not all that worried about her upcoming exams, since according to her, she would need to ‘work really hard’ to flunk any of her classes at this point. He asks about graduation, and she rolls her eyes, saying that she’s not worried about that either, since there have been a couple of companies in Boston and New York that have expressed their interest in hiring her. As she talks, he can’t help but smile at her confidence. 

Felicity has never needed anyone to tell her how smart she is. She’s never been cocky or rude about it, but she has also never tried to conceal it. He remembers a couple of the guys in high school saying they’d never ask her out because they didn’t want to date a girl that was smarter than them. And he’d truly never understood how they could think like that. He’d always thought her intelligence was quite sexy, actually... _especially_ because she was bold and confident about it. Fearless.

After a while, when the air gets chilly and Felicity starts putting her hands under his shirt ‘for warmth,’ they decide to pack up and head back to her house.

Oliver carries the picnic basket in one hand, keeping Felicity tucked under his arm on the other side of him. He can tell she’s getting cold, her pace a little faster on the walk back than on the way there.

He lets out a sad sigh as they turn onto her street, the townhouse and his car coming into view. Felicity glances up at him, her hand rubbing down his back. “You’re still not ready to go home, huh?”

Oliver shakes his head, “not really. I know it’s probably time to just face my dad, but how would you feel about getting a hotel room downtown for the next couple of days?”

She scoffs, lightly pinching his hip. “I’d say that sounds amazing, but not as an excuse to avoid your father. I don’t think you’d enjoy it as much if that’s the only reason we got a room together.”

He throws her an incredulous glance, “if I have you alone in a romantic hotel room, I’m not going to be thinking about anything else.”

“True,” Felicity hums back, raising an eyebrow. “I’d make sure you didn’t.”

His eyes flame as he stares down at her, watching her bite her lip. “Don’t tempt me, Felicity. I’ll have a room booked in two minutes. And your clothes off in ten.”

“Hey,” she pouts, “now who’s tempting who?”

“Oh, I’m not tempting. I’m asking.”

Felicity smiles, “you know, you could just stay here for the night. If you don’t want to go home yet, I mean. You don’t need a fancy hotel to hide out in. You can always come here.” She gently pats his cheek, her words and the look in her eyes making his heart _melt_.

And somehow, unexpectedly, it manages to turn him on.

_This woman. She’s going to be the death of him._

“Oliver…” she sucks in a breath, tapping him on the chest.

He forces his eyes away from her mouth, glancing up at her face, and then up the driveway, seeing what caught Felicity’s attention. And he immediately frowns. “Mom?”

Moira glances up at them as they approach the townhouse, her hands pushed into the pockets of her sweater. Her eyes bounce between them, but it’s nothing even close to _shock_ that Oliver reads in his mother’s expression. “Hi,” she lifts a hand to wave.

Beside him, Felicity stiffens, moving to take a step back before he can stop her. Moira winces, her smile faltering. “I’m sorry,” she sighs as they reach her. “I had no intention of confronting you two…”

_But she knew._

“Did Raisa tell you?” Oliver asks.

“No,” Moira shakes her head, waving her hand in dismissal. “No one needed to tell me, dear. But that’s actually not why I’m here.”

Oliver shoves his hands into his pockets when he finds himself wanting to reach for Felicity, to pull her close again. He can see out of the corner of her eye that she’s rigid. Uncomfortable. Because she was far from ready for Moira to find out about them. And yet his mom had forced her hand. “Then why are you here?”

In response, Moira raises her fingers to his face, the touch ghosting across his still-sore eye. “I knew he’d done something to upset you,” she mumbles, “otherwise you wouldn't have disappeared from the house for the last three days after you just got home.” He doesn’t answer, and Moira sighs. “We need to talk about your father.”

Oliver scoffs, “I think I’ve done enough talking about him for tonight, mom.”

The smile she gives him is sad, but her eyes flicker to Felicity. As if in understanding. In appreciation. Like she knows that the woman he loves had been there for him to confide in. “Sweetheart, I’m just asking you to listen. I just need you to listen.”

He cocks his head at his mom, trying to decide if he really wants to get into this tonight. Well, he knows that he doesn’t _want_ to, but he also knows that Moira wouldn’t have come if _she_ didn’t _need_ to.

Taking the silence as her exit strategy, Felicity quickly excuses herself, squeezing his hand as she tells him that she’ll be inside. He leans down to kiss the top of her head, “I’ll be in in just a minute.”

Oliver watches as Felicity makes her way into the apartment, feeling his mom’s eyes on him. “I’m glad that you and Felicity have finally come around,” she says once the door closes.

He slides his eyes back to his mom, “you didn’t come here to discuss Felicity.”

“That’s right,” Moira nods, lifting her chin. “I’m leaving your father,” she informs him in that straightforward, blunt way of hers.

“What?” Oliver gasps. “Mom...don’t do that on my account.”

“Darling, it’s more than that. Although your father’s behavior is unforgivable when it comes to how he’s treated you.”

He shakes his head, his jaw clenching. “Unforgivable?” He raises his eyebrows, “mom, that’s how he’s been for twenty years!”

“I know,” Moira whispers, closing her eyes. “I should have done it a long time ago. I plan on giving him the divorce papers after the party in a few months. I just wanted you to know, sweetheart...that I’m here for you. And I’m so, so sorry that I let things get this far.”

“How long have you been planning this?”

She shrugs, clearly not wanting to give a straight answer. “A few years now. I’m sure you’ve been able to notice that we’re not exactly the perfect couple. I did love him, sweetheart. In the beginning. But things fell apart quickly and as much as we love you and your sister, having children just made our relationship much more complicated. I thought that I was sticking it out for you two. But I think that I just made all of us unhappy.”

He lets out a sharp breath, processing. “You’re leaving him? You’re serious?”

“Yes,” Moira nods. “I’m serious. Over the years, our marriage became more of an arrangement. To save public face and keep our finances and business in order. It worked for us.” She pinches her lips together, and Oliver knows that she has more to say. 

“He cheated on you, mom,” Oliver whispers, his voice raspy, broken, as he finally releases the secret he’d been holding on to since he was just a boy. Never knowing how much it affected him, ate him up inside, until he looked his mother in the eyes and confessed it to her.

And Moira just smiles. “I know. I always knew. After you and Thea were gone, when I didn’t have you two to focus on...that...that part of our dynamic became harder to ignore. I was lonely. He wasn’t. And, about five years ago, I fell in love.”

Oliver just blinks at her, his mouth opening and closing as various questions bombard his mind. Who? How? _What?_

“Your dad filled the emptiness in the house by leaving it, too. He started staying late at the office, taking ‘business trips.’ And yet...Walter seemed to be the one doing all the work to keep QC together.”

Suddenly, it clicks.

“Walter…?” 

“Yes,” Moira whispers. By her smile, Oliver has his answer. “A few years ago, the company was struggling a bit more than we wanted you kids to know...Walter and I did everything we could to salvage it while your dad was unreachable. Somewhere on a boat in the caribbean.”

_Wow._

His mom lifts her shoulders, making no apologies, showing no remorse, as she meets his eyes. “Walter and I...it just happened. And I’m glad that it did.”

_Wow._

He has to admit, the first thing he feels is relief. Which...is fucked up on a few different levels. He’s relieved that Moira knows the truth about her husband’s affairs. He’s relieved that she didn’t bottle up her pain the way that he had for all these years. And he’s relieved that through all of it, his mother moved on. That she’s happy now. 

Oliver chuckles, reducing the tension between them. “I just wish we would have had this conversation sooner.”

Moira reaches out for his hand, taking it between her own and squeezing it. “Me too. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that things have come to this,” she whispers, eyeing the bruise on his face. “My sweet boy.”

“Mom,” Oliver breathes. Seeing her eyes fill with tears, he pulls her in for a hug. “It’s not your fault.”

She hugs him back, pulling away after a moment and giving him a watery smile. “So...you and Felicity?” 

He levels her with a look.“…How did you know I was here?” 

“Oh sweetheart, I’ve known you were here since the moment I realized you left the other night.” 

“Oh…” 

“It’s always been Felicity,” Moira muses. “For you, it’s always been her. Although I have to admit…I expected it to happen sooner than this. You deserve someone like her though. And she deserves someone like _you_.” 

“When did you find out? About us…?” He has to ask.

Moira pauses, pursing her lips. “You mean when did I find out that you’re sleeping together?” Oliver winces, but Moira laughs. “I saw you in the kitchen with her, when you first got home from Russia. It was quite clear that something had changed between the two of you.”

“I hadn’t slept with her yet,” Oliver blurts out, as if that’s any defense.

Moira shrugs, “it’s not important, dear. _It just happened. And you should be glad that it did._ I know Felicity is probably worried about Thea...but don’t make any apologies for falling in love. Not to me, or your sister, or to anyone. And don’t let Felicity feel guilty for it, either. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Do you remember when you were kids, and Felicity slipped and fell down the stairs?” 

He looks at his mom, surprised as he sheepishly admits, “I remember, yes.” 

“She got the wind knocked out of her, and the noise she made… it terrified you. You went running to her. Carried her into the kitchen and cleaned her up. You wouldn’t even let me put a bandaid on her, insisted on taking care of her yourself.” Moira smiles, “it was pretty obvious to me after that. Although, apparently not so obvious to _you_ yet. So, I have to say that _I’m_ probably less surprised by this new romance than both of you.”

Oliver smiles, a sense of peace settling inside of him. Raisa knows, and no one got upset. Moira knows, and the world hasn’t ended because of it. 

He knows that Felicity is afraid. But his family, the people that matter at least, are proving that they have nothing to worry about. Who’s to say that Thea won’t feel the same way Raisa and Moira do? 

Giving his mom another hug, he promises that he’ll come back to the mansion later that night, knowing that they have more to discuss. About her plan to divorce Robert, about what happened, about what’s _going_ to happen. And he has tons of questions about Walter too, since he still hasn’t wrapped his head around the fact that his mom is in love with their longtime family friend just yet.

But first, he wants to check on Felicity. Say goodnight. Let her know everything that’s going on and the shitstorm that he senses in their future because of everything his mom told him. And he definitely needs to make sure that she’s not freaking out. His mom knows about them, so...she probably _is_ freaking out. 

“I’ll meet you back at the house,” he tells Moira, squeezing her one more time to let her know that everything was going to be okay.

Then he goes inside to talk to his girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Please let me know what you think!! :)


	9. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It reminds Oliver of years ago, when the same girl had pushed the same snarky kid into the same pool to defend him. 
> 
> At the time, he was just beginning to have feelings for her.
> 
> Now, he’s head over heels in love with her.
> 
> And somehow, despite how much they’ve grown up and how much has changed, the way that Felicity Smoak pulls on his heartstrings is exactly the same. A feeling that only she can give him.

Falling asleep without Felicity was harder to do now that he knows what it’s like to close his eyes with her in his arms. And of course, opening them in the morning causes the same problem. But after Oliver and Moira had talked the other night, he’d been staying at the mansion. Despite his girlfriend’s offer that he could stay with her, he’d been sleeping at home for the past week.

While he’s happy for the time he’s spent with his mom and sister, going to bed at night and waking up the next day kind of sucks when Felicity isn’t there. But Moira is so happy to have him home, and Robert has been avoiding him all week, anyway. 

Surprisingly, his biggest issue with staying at the mansion all week hasn’t been that he’s forced to face his dad. It’s knowing that he can’t spend every moment of his time in Starling with Felicity. And counting down the days until he has to go back to Russia.

That Saturday morning, Oliver knows that he should get out of bed. 

It might be the weekend, but there’s a lot he could be doing. His sister’s “camping” party is tonight, and there’s work that he should really try to get done before they have to start setting up. 

Which is why he woke up early in the first place.

Oliver closes his eyes, letting himself sink into the warmth of his bed for a little bit longer as he groans and pulls the blankets over his head. He was almost about to fall asleep again when he heard his bedroom door creak open. 

Keeping his eyes closed, Oliver waited, knowing that it was probably Raisa coming to clean things up because she thought he wasn’t home. His parents never came around his room, and Thea always knocked. Besides, he’d usually be up by this point.

With the blankets over his head, he stayed still, giving Raisa time to realize that he was and still in bed, and hopefully she’d make a quiet exit so he could avoid his responsibilities for a few more minutes.

After a moment, the door closed again. Oliver heard it lock. And then he felt the bed dip down beside him.

_Felicity._

She curls up against his side, pressing her cheek to his back while he lays on his stomach. Oliver smiles, only opening his eyes when her fingers start caressing his hair. As he tips his head to meet her eyes, Felicity frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was mostly awake,” he sighs dreamily, taking in the sight of her. She’s in a maroon MIT t-shirt and gray shorts, her glasses missing and her hair in a messy bun. She looks gorgeous.

“You look gorgeous.” He smiles, pulling her close. “What are you doing here?”

“I stayed over last night. You were already asleep when Thea texted me asking me to come by for a late night talk.”

“And...what are you doing _in here_?”

 _She_ is the one who doesn’t want Thea to know about them yet. Sneaking into his room is a risky move. “I was awake. And just...thinking about how spring break is almost over. I’m not ready.”

“You said you were,” he props himself up on his elbow, gazing down at her. “Come on, you’re going to ace all your finals, graduate at the top of your class, and land your dream job immediately. Remember?”

“I meant that I’m not ready to say goodbye to you again,” Felicity mumbles back, and he’s struck by the flash of sadness behind her eyes. They fill with tears for just a moment, throwing him off balance, before she blinks the moisture away. 

But Oliver notices. 

And it makes his chest feel as if it’s cracking open. 

“Long distance can be sexy,” he points out quietly, trying to lighten the mood. He drapes an arm over her waist and slides across the bed to get closer. Her lips are soft as he kisses her, and Felicity starts to lean back, expecting him to move on top. But Oliver has other ideas. Instead, he loops his arms around her, rolling onto his back and adjusting her atop his chest. 

Felicity giggles, spreading her legs to straddle him as he yanks at the blanket, untangling it from around their legs and shoving it aside.

_God, she’s gorgeous._

Her hips rock against him, grinding down, and Oliver bites his lip to keep from moaning. Suddenly, she sits up, and he finds himself chasing after her, not ready to stop the onslaught on her mouth. But Felicity flattens her hands on his bare chest and pushes him back down. 

“Hey,” he grunts as she rubs herself against his hardening cock, steadying herself with her hands on his chest.

It reminds him of the first time they’d made love. And it’s driving him crazy.

“I know you like to be on top, but if you keep that up, I’m going to lose my patience.” Oliver’s voice, low and thick with sleep, rumbles from his throat. “And then I’ll end up fucking you however _I_ want.”

He heard her suck in a breath of surprise, her jaw dropping as her movements halted. And admittedly, he wasn’t really one to talk like that. Especially not when it comes to Felicity. He’s a total goner when it comes to her, and he’d given her complete control during the handful of times they’d had sex. Yet, as the words settle, Oliver stares up at Felicity and watches her wide eyes start to darken.

As if to prove a point, she slowly starts to grind against him again. “How do you want to fuck me, Oliver?”

Just as he’d warned, his patience snaps. Those dirty words on her beautiful lips make his dick impossibly hard, jerking up towards her heat. He instantly turns them over, landing on top of her. 

Felicity beams up at him, thoroughly enjoying the fact that he’s taking control. And since she’d clearly been the dominant one up until that point, he’s thoroughly enjoying how much she likes it. He leans in to kiss her, his mouth slanting against hers, their tongues meeting. He kisses her until she’s breathless, and then he leans back, removing his weight from her body. And then, without warning, he flips her onto her stomach, straddling her legs.

“Oliver, what are you–“ her words are cut off when he grabs her ass between his hands. Squeezing it. 

“Shhh,” Oliver smiles as she looks at him over her shoulder. He drops his head against hers, his mouth drawing a path from her cheek to her neck. He kisses her shoulder, nipping at her back. And all the while, his hands slip beneath the bottoms of her shorts, gripping her ass, kneading it. Felicity bends her knees, putting herself at an angle where she can push back into him. Her round, perfect ass thrusting against his aching cock. 

As his mouth reaches the small of her back, he lifts her shirt up, his tongue flicking out, kissing her goosebumps there.

His hands slip into the top of her shorts, pulling them down. And Felicity squirms to help him. Sitting back, careful not to put too much pressure on her legs where he has them pinned, he takes a moment to appreciate the view in front of him. Her navy blue thong stands out against her creamy skin. Her _ass_ , which is by far the most gorgeous ass he’s ever seen, wiggles underneath the weight of his attention.

And begrudgingly, he feels like he could come just from this. Just from dry humping her from behind. 

Thankfully, Felicity is just as turned on as he is, her hands clumsy as she reaches back to pull at his boxers. Oliver grunts, lowering them to his knees and then kicking them off completely. Felicity straightens her legs and arches her back, lining him up exactly where she wants him. He can feel how wet she is, he can _see_ it.

Her slick folds tease the head of his cock, and he slips inside of her, each of them sighing in relief. Incomprehensible _pleasure_ overtakes every part of his body and his mind as her walls pulse around him. 

When Oliver starts to slowly thrust, Felicity grabs a pillow above her head, gripping it tightly as she buries her face in the sheets to keep her moans to a minimum. He stares down at her sex, watching himself disappear in and out of her. The angle doesn’t let him go as deep as he’s been inside of her before, not quite hitting the spot that sends her over the edge. But as he plunges in, he falls on top of her, nudging his hand between her body and the mattress until he reaches her clit. 

Felicity cries out as his fingers move frantically, and Oliver bites her shoulder in retaliation, reminding her to be quiet.

When he knows she’s close to an orgasm, he slows himself down, his hand pressing against her sex, covered in her juices, and his hips doing the same.

“Oliver,” she whines. She begs.

He smirks, pulling out of her just to flip her over again, onto her back.

Felicity gasps as she looks up at him, her eyes wide and so fucking bright, it makes him drunk with pride. Then he drives home again, picking up the same punishing pace that has those insatiable noises falling from her lips. This time, he kisses her to silence them, knowing that this isn’t the time or place to let her get loud.

He continues to fuck her, pushing her body up with the effort until they reach the top of the bed. Or, what he thought was the top of his bed. His hand darts out in search of his headboard, looking for something to hold on to as he rams into Felicity on a particularly forceful thrust. But apparently they’d managed to turn sideways on the mattress, leaving him to grasp at air where he’d expected the sturdy support of the headboard.

The momentum sends them tumbling over the edge of the bed. 

“Fuck!” Oliver’s eyes snap open in surprise, having just enough time to turn, softening the blow as he falls onto his back with Felicity landing on top of him. Breathing heavily, he blinks up at his ceiling, his back pressed against the rug and Felicity’s body pressed against his chest. “Shit. Felicity, are you okay?”

She giggles, shifting her hips back until he’s inside of her again. “Oh, I’m more than good,” Felicity settles on top of him. And Oliver stares up at her, still trying to catch up with the fall, the new surface, and the feeling of her tight pussy as she starts to move again. He forgets all about the pain in his back. Neither of them care to right themselves, too close to coming to stop now. “I want you on top,” she orders, her voice just a moan, her body writhing as she takes him to the hilt.

And Oliver grins as her words make his heart race, a thrill running through him. He quickly flips them over yet again, eager to please. Her bare back rests on the hardwood floor now, but Felicity doesn’t complain, and he doesn’t care about the pain in his knees as he starts to pound into her.

Felicity comes in a matter of seconds, her orgasm building back to the pleasure she’d been about to feel before they’d tumbled off the bed. Her walls clamp around his dick. The intensity of how tight, how _good_ it feels makes his back stiffen. 

Nothing seems better than coming deep inside of Felicity Smoak, letting her milk him for all that he’s worth. “Felicity,” Oliver grits out, suddenly remembering the small, very important thing that they’d completely forgotten about. “I’m close...I—” he squeezes his eyes shut, forcing himself to calm down.

She hums in response, too lost in her own orgasm to realize what he was trying to say.

Her fingers knot in his hair, and he opens his eyes again to meet her gaze. As soon his orgasm threatens to wash over him, Oliver pulls out. And then his breath catches in his throat when he feels Felicity’s hand wrap around his cock. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she pumps him. Those bright, beautiful eyes stare up at him, her pupils blown wide. Beneath him, her body rocks with the snap of his hips, her hand squeezing him until he can’t take it anymore. 

He comes in her hand, covering her fingers and both of their stomachs.

And as soon as Oliver begins to come down from the orgasm, he can feel her hand still on him, just her thumb stroking over his tip as she lets out a content sigh. A smile pulls at her lips and she looks up at him.

_God. He doesn’t want to move._

Knowing he has to, Oliver rolls off of her with a groan. Then he stands up, telling Felicity not to move as he hurries to the bathroom. He cleans himself up quickly before wetting a washcloth and carrying it out to Felicity.

She’s laying exactly where he’d left her when he returns; entirely naked, which is still a sight that takes his breath away and probably always will. And his cum is still on her lower abdomen as she pushes herself onto her elbows, trying not to move. 

It’s probably the most erotic thing he’s ever seen in his life. 

“Oliver,” Felicity smirks, raising her eyebrows. She holds her hand out, wiggling her fingers for the towel, but Oliver just drops to his knees beside her. Leaning over to clean up the mess he’d made. And he can’t help but appreciate the blush that covers her neck to her chest. He takes his time with it. 

“There,” he tosses the towel aside, hovering over Felicity and pressing a kiss to her lips. “Have I mentioned that you’re welcome to sneak into my bedroom any time you want?”

“Mm,” Felicity hums, “Yeah, you mentioned something like that after our shower the other morning.” The smirk on her face and the visual reminder of that morning catches his cock’s attention, and apparently he’s not at all opposed to round two. 

Oliver chuckles, leaning back onto his knees and pulling her up with him. Then he gathers her in his arms and stands up, instantly moving back to the bed. 

Felicity starts to laugh, hiding her face in his neck. “I can’t believe you fucked me right off the bed.”

_Oh, he’s definitely ready to do it again._

Still, Oliver had enough shame to at least look apologetic. “I’ll try to make sure we stick to one surface at a time.”

Felicity picks her head up, her thumb coasting across his chin, and he stops in front of the bed, still holding her, just to admire the view in his arms. “I didn’t mind the floor. That was...pretty hot.”

“Oh yeah?” Oliver growls, pressing his lips against her nose before leaning back. “Then why don’t we try it again and see where we end up this time?”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, her eyes wide as she nods enthusiastically. Just as Oliver starts to lower her to the bed, a loud knock on the door makes him freeze.

“Ollie!” Thea’s voice calls out, quickly followed by a breathless curse from Felicity. 

_Deja vu, much?_

It was way too similar to the morning in the shower. Mind blowing orgasm followed by his sister ruining the chance of a repeat. _He really needs to get his own place for when he comes back to town._

Before Oliver can react, Felicity scrambles out of his arms and back onto her own two feet. She waves a hand at him, then at the door, silently telling him to respond. Before he can even open his mouth, she’s moving away from him. Felicity practically dances across the carpet they’d just had sex on, collecting her clothes. Oliver starts to answer Thea, but his mouth goes dry… the sight of Felicity nakedly running around his bedroom is a little bit distracting.

The next thing he knows, she’s disappeared into his ensuite bathroom and quietly shut the door behind herself without another word. Shaking his head, Oliver searches for his own pants and pulls them on. “One second, Thea!” he calls out to his sister, checking himself in the mirror and fixing his hair. Then he takes a moment to straighten up his bed so that it looks more like he’d been sleeping in it rather than having wild sex in it. _And off of it._

As he pulls open the door, Oliver’s heart still feels like it’s beating in overdrive. “Hey.”

Thea gives him a strange look, looking him up and down before she peeks a glance around the room. And he tries to school his expression, to _not_ look like he’s just been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. His sister scoffs at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s going on?”

“I was sleeping, Thea,” he snaps. “Do you need something?”

She narrows her eyes at him, “Roy is about to take me out for breakfast. Since you know, it’s my birthday…”

Oliver squeezes his eyes shut, letting out a breath as his shoulders slump. “Sorry, Speedy,” he looks down at her apologetically. “I just haven’t been getting much sleep lately. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s okay,” she shrugs. “Just don’t forget we have plans tonight, alright?”

Knowing that she isn’t supposed to know about the party, he gives an innocent shrug. Although, he’s not surprised that Thea has some kind of a clue. She’s never been easy to surprise. “What do you mean?” he asks anyway, his eyebrows furrowing as he feigns ignorance. “We didn’t make plans.”

Thea gives him a look that makes it clear she sees right through him. “I don’t know how much you know, but I do know that Felicity is up to something. And I don’t know what that something is, nor do I want to know. All I know is that whatever it is, you better be in attendance.” After flashing him a sarcastic smile, she reaches up and pats his cheek, “Deal?”

He rolls his eyes, dodging her hand before she can touch his face again. “Alright, alright. Deal.”

“Good,” she nods, turning and heading off down the hallway.

“Hey, Speedy!” Oliver gets her attention again, grinning at her. “Happy birthday.”

She grins back at him, doing a little happy dance as she goes back to her room to finish getting ready. Just as he closes the door again, he hears the bathroom one swing open. Felicity comes out wearing the same shorts and t-shirt as before, but her hair is brushed into a neat ponytail, her face clean of the traces of makeup he’d noticed before. Automatically, he smirks at her, thinking about diving his fingers into her hair and making a mess of it again.

Felicity quickly takes a step back, raising her hands as if she knows he’s about to _pounce._

“Oliver, no,” her eyes widen when he takes another step forward. She takes another one back. “We have to get everything ready for the party while Roy keeps Thea busy.”

“She’s still waiting for him to get here,” he points out. “We can’t leave the room or set anything up until she’s gone anyway.”

Felicity chews on her lip, realizing that he’s right. Oliver steps closer, crowding her space, pushing her up against the wall. He slowly trails his lips across her cheek, soft kisses all over her ear and down her neck.

“Where does she think you are, by the way?” he grumbles against Felicity’s throat, vaguely curious as to why Thea hadn’t mentioned Felicity like she did the other morning when she came knocking at his door, looking for her.

“I got an Uber last night,” Felicity breathes. “And I told her I was going home before I came in here.”

Oliver hums, his brain taking an extra moment to process her words, forgetting what he’d even asked. He has to remind himself that there’s a part of her that enjoys this. She’d said herself, even if she felt some shame in it, that it was exciting to sneak around.

_Otherwise, why would she keep coming into his room like this?_

Smiling, Oliver presses himself against her, pushing his knee between her legs. Much to his pleasure, Felicity moans, slowly grinding against his thigh.

As Felicity spreads her legs wider, Oliver hums in approval, shoving his hand between her legs. He lets out a low groan as her eyes flutter shut, her mouth falling open in a silent cry.

“Quick and quiet, Oliver,” she murmurs. _Demands._

He leans back to stare at her, amazed that those four words can sound so insanely sexy when they’re falling from her lips. His grin is devilish as he meets her eyes, offering four words of his own, “I fucking love you.”

* * *

It takes them most of the day to get everything ready for Thea’s party. Raisa helps a lot. Tommy, once he decides to show up around lunch time, helps a little.

They start in the back sunroom; arranging the couches and television, compiling a collection of movies from around the house, and setting up all the blankets and pillows inside. Then they spend most of the day in the backyard; helping the gardeners pull out the patio furniture, stringing lights through the trees and scattering the lanterns that Felicity had bought near the edge of the woods where the tents would be set up. Oliver makes sure they have everything for the bonfire while Felicity calls Tommy with a reminder to pick up Thea’s cake. 

All in all, the day goes smoothly, aside from a brief encounter with Raisa when she’d asked if he was okay because she’d heard him fall out of bed that morning, and Felicity had nearly choked on her coffee. Luckily his girlfriend recovered and forgot about it quickly. He was glad that Felicity had insisted on a simple party that they could arrange themselves, together, rather than hiring a caterer and having a professional decorator do everything for them. 

It might not be the most glamorous night of their lives, but he knows that Thea is going to love it. And he loves that she’ll love it. And he also loves that he got to spend a whole day with Felicity to make it happen.

Tommy arrives just in time to help them pitch the tents, making the process go by faster. The sun is just starting to set by the time they finish. Felicity claps her hands together, “Okay, I need to run home and shower before we get this party started. Why don’t you guys get the fire going?” She pulls her phone out, checking the time. “Roy should be back with Thea in a couple hours.”

“I told everyone to get here early,” Tommy chimes in.

Oliver glances at his friend skeptically, “How many people did you invite?”

Tommy grins, “Just fifty of the birthday girl’s closest friends.”

 _Right._ Just like his going away party a few months ago had been for him and _his_ closest friends. Although to be fair, he mostly kept acquaintances, he could count his closest friends on one hand. His sister was much better at making genuine friendships than he’d ever been.

Still, he expects the night to be lowkey in a _Thea_ kind of way, as Felicity had put it. Which means that he’s prepared for basically anything.

“Here,” Oliver pulls out his car keys, remembering that Felicity had taken an Uber to the mansion the night before. 

She smiles gratefully, taking the keys. Then she grabs his collar, tilting her lips up towards him and tugging gently on his shirt. Realizing what she wants, Oliver leans in to kiss her, a smile still on his face as he pulls back.

“You guys are nauseating. But cute.”

Oliver just sighs and sends Tommy a death-glare. But Felicity wheels around, her smile sweet, and fake, as she approaches him. And Tommy, none the wiser, smiles back. “Thanks!” she says cheerfully, not missing a beat before she shoves him into the pool.

Oliver gasps, the shock brief before he’s overcome with laughter at the noise his best friend makes as he stumbles ungracefully into the water. And he’s still laughing when Tommy’s head pops up from the pool, immediately whining, “Come on, Smoak!” with his first breath.

It reminds Oliver of years ago, when the same girl had pushed the same snarky kid into the same pool to defend _him._

At the time, he was just beginning to have feelings for her.

Now, he’s head over heels in love with her.

And somehow, despite how much they’ve grown up and how much has changed, the way that Felicity Smoak pulls on his heartstrings is exactly the same. A feeling that only she can give him.

Felicity waves to Tommy, then blows a kiss in Oliver’s direction as she skips up the stairs to the house, singing over her shoulder, “Be right back!”

Once Tommy borrows some dry clothes and eats two chocolate bars that were supposed to be for s’mores, he’s back to his old, chipper self. They start the fire while they still have some daylight to work with, seeing as neither of them had ever tried to do it before. He probably used too much lighter fluid and Tommy _definitely_ almost tripped into the pit, but they managed to get the flames billowing high and large enough to be considered an adequate _bonfire._

Thankfully, Felicity returns before any of the guests or Thea show up. Her hair is wet, in a loose braid that tumbles down her back, her face is fresh with just a light touch of makeup, and the sight of her brings an uncontrollable smile to Oliver’s face.

He and Tommy are in the kitchen, prepping the food for the cookout, and he quickly jogs over as she comes into the room, knowing it’ll be one of his only chances to kiss her tonight. With so many people there for the party, especially Thea, they’d already agreed on a ‘no touching’ rule for the night. But seeing her in a simple pair of leggings and a flowing red blouse, he’s suddenly wishing that conversation never happened.

“Hi,” he whispers, slowly pulling the backpack she’s carrying from her shoulder as he bends down for a kiss.

Felicity welcomes it, rubbing his arm as they part. “How are things going?”

“I’m dry and vengeful now, Smoak!” Tommy calls out, raising his middle finger to Felicity. She chuckles, rolling her eyes as she tells him he’s too dramatic. Then she steps around the kitchen counter to help him slice up the tomatoes and lettuce for the burgers. 

She bumps her hip against Tommy’s, managing to look apologetic as she says, “Don’t hold a grudge, Merlyn. You told me that you pretended to be a bear to scare Thea and I away from my one and only experience camping. Consider your little dip in the pool as payback.” She shrugs, “Even?”

Tommy narrows his eyes, considering her. And then he sighs, “Fine, but only because Oliver would probably kill me if I acted on any of the revenge plots I had in mind. And by the way...Oliver was right there with me for that whole bear thing. How about you send him for a swim!?”

Felicity smirks, tossing a piece of tomato into her mouth before answering, “Obviously he’s made it up to me.”

At that, Tommy laughs, leaning a little closer and leveling her with the same look that Oliver sees on his face whenever he’s trying to pick up a woman. “Well sweetheart, if you wanted that kind of compensation, you could have just asked.”

Before Felicity can say anything, even though Oliver knows she’d be quick to put Tommy in place, he reacts. In the split second that it takes for the slight jealousy to annoy him, Oliver picks up a piece of cheese from the platter in front of him and throws it at Tommy’s face.

“Ow,” his friend flinches, glancing at him with a frown.

Oliver raises his eyebrows, “Why don’t you stop hitting on my girlfriend and go check on the fire?”

With a small shake of his head, Tommy stalks off for the backyard. 

“You’re adorable when you’re jealous, you know,” Felicity informs him once Tommy is out of earshot. “Kind of caveman-ish, but I kind of like it.”

“I don’t think _jealous_ is the right word,” he mumbles back, trying to shake off his irritation with Tommy. Not that he believes his friend would ever cross a line, or that he’s truly interested in Felicity, but he _is_ a flirt. And he seems to be having way too much fun with Oliver’s newfound territorial side.

Most of the guests that responded to Tommy’s invite show up on time, and Oliver starts the grill up as they arrive, even though Thea and Roy aren’t back. There’s plenty of food, and he doesn’t want to make people sit around hungry while they wait for his sister. As he cooks, he’s surprised that Felicity slips into hostess mode, leading people out back, showing them where to find the coolers with drinks, letting them know where the bathrooms are. 

He’s seen her at galas and parties that Thea would rope her into, and Felicity was never exactly friendly or chatty at those events. 

But tonight, she seems more at ease, leaving him to man the grill without needing to do much else. 

The backyard is filled with Thea’s friends from high school, work, and quite a few of her college friends had made the trip, too. The sun had set hours ago, but the air is just starting to cool off. The fire is still burning though, creating plenty of heat. 

After about an hour, Felicity comes up behind him to get his attention. He tilts his head and she waves her phone in his face, “They’re on their way,” she tells him with wide, excited eyes, her hand still tapping incessantly on his shoulder. “Roy texted and said five minutes!”

Olive chuckles, “Okay, why don’t you let everyone know–”

“Everyone! Get ready! They’re on their way!” Felicity instantly blurts out, turning to wave her phone at the crowd. The people quiet down, moseying up to the back patio where they’re expecting to greet Thea. “Sorry,” Felicity huffs, sounding nervous as she looks back at him. “I’ve never thrown a surprise party before!”

He can’t help but smile. Because she’s _adorable._ Without thinking, he ducks his head to kiss her. And Felicity instinctively leans in, their lips almost touching before she shoves him back with a yelp. “Shit,” he mumbles, glancing around to check if anyone is paying attention to them.

Luckily, it doesn’t seem to be the case. Felicity seems to realize it, too, her shoulders relaxing. Then she pokes a finger to his chest, “We’re going to need to get _that_ under control in–” she glances down at her phone, checking the time. “Three minutes. Oh god, okay! Three minutes! Three minutes, people!”

When Thea arrives, Roy leads her out to the back, where everyone shouts ‘surprise’ as soon as they walk through the doors. Oliver instantly knows that Thea’s reaction is fake; she must have either gotten it out of Roy or she’d put the pieces together by the time she got there, but she still pretends to be surprised. Which he finds himself greatly appreciating because Felicity is _thrilled_ that the party goes off without any hiccups. 

Once the festivities are in full swing, Felicity mostly sticks close to the same group of people, friends she and Thea know from high school. But eventually Thea pulls her over towards some other friends of hers, and Felicity meets them, too. Oliver tells himself that he’s staying sober so he can make sure everyone else has a good time, a level of responsibility he’s never put on himself. He also tells himself that his attentiveness is needed for everyone, yet his eyes keep finding Felicity, always aware of where she is even as they make sure to mingle in separate areas of the house.

It’s kind of torturous to be so close to her without being able to go near her. Talk to her. Touch her. Let everyone at this party know that they’re together and she’s _his._

_Yep, he’s definitely developing a territorial side._

It’s well past midnight when the party finally starts to wind down. Most of the guests have gone home or found a tent to crash in. Felicity and Thea had already commandeered one for themselves and a few of their other girlfriends. Standing in front of the bonfire, Oliver is only half-listening to Tommy while his friend rambles and consumes his fifth or sixth s’more of the night. He watches as Felicity and other girls come out of the tent, laughing while they head into the house.

Tommy stops talking as he catches the eye of one of Thea’s friends, calling out a sultry ‘hello’ to the dark haired woman. Felicity rolls her eyes at him and Thea flashes her middle finger. But the girl blushes, clearly relishing the attention as she smiles and waves back. “That’s my cue,” Tommy sighs, patting Oliver on the shoulder before jogging up to the girls.

The flirt that he is, Tommy follows the group into the mansion, his sights set on the brunette. And Oliver just shakes his head, watching while his sister breaks away from them, coming towards him instead. “Hey, Speedy,” he greets once she gets closer. “Enjoying the party?”

“Absolutely,” Thea grins up at him. “Felicity told me how you helped her with all of this. It’s amazing, Ollie. For real, I love it. So thank you for the best birthday ever.” Her words warm his chest like the fire warms his skin as he pulls her in, tucking her under his arm and ruffling her hair like he always does. Thea swats his hand away, but hugs him back. “I also just wanted to say that I’m on your side,” she whispers, her voice more serious. “Dad told me about your fight and I know that’s how you got the bruise on your eye.”

_Ah, so the drunken bar fight excuse had been a useless attempt with her. No wonder she’d looked at him like he had six heads when he’d tried to feed her the line a few days ago._

“You didn’t have to lie to me about it, you know…” 

Oliver sighs, feeling guilty, but not exactly remorseful. Thea loves Robert; the two of them have always gotten along. Thea has always been his favorite. And he didn’t want to ruin the way she sees her father. “We don’t have to talk about this tonight, Speedy… It’s not worth bringing down your party with it.”

_Or his current good mood._

“I know,” she mumbles, squeezing him tighter. With her head still tucked under his chin, he can’t see her face, but her tone is quiet and calm. “You guys will get past it. You always do.”

He doesn’t answer, not wanting to explain to her in that moment that the night Robert punched him had changed things. He doesn’t admit that he isn’t sure he _wants_ to get past it. He doesn’t tell Thea about Moira’s plan to divorce or her affair with Walter. Keeping that secret from his sister makes him feel more guilty than anything else.

He might not know what it means for his relationship with Robert, or their family, or his job for that matter, but he knows that Thea doesn’t need all of that unloaded on her. Especially not on her birthday.

“Hey! We need some help in here!”

Oliver’s head instantly snaps up at the voice, seeing Callum O’Connor on the patio above. Seeing the guy’s wide eyed, panicked expression makes his heart sink. He and Thea share a look as Callum runs back into the house and then they quickly follow.

Callum is out of sight by the time they get inside, but the commotion seems to be in the kitchen, and Thea tugs on his shirt, pulling him down the hallway towards it.

He already had the sinking feeling. He was already holding his breath. But when Oliver rounds the corner and sees Felicity sitting on the floor, her whole body shaking as she clutches onto Tommy where he’s kneeling in front of her, he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. 

“What happened!?” He instantly rushes towards her, shoving Tommy out of the way so he can cup Felicity’s face, tilting her head up to see her eyes. She looks back at him, but Oliver has the distinct, unsettling feeling that she doesn’t even see him. Her chest is moving, short, rapid breaths like she’s struggling for air. And it makes him more terrified than he’s ever felt in his life.

“We don’t know!” Tommy cries, “she was fine and then she just—she just...fell!”

“Felicity, can you hear me?” It’s Thea’s voice beside him, coming to Felicity’s other side. All she gets in response is a tiny choking noise, her shaking hand coming up to clutch her throat. “She’s having an allergic reaction,” Thea explains calmly. 

And then a voice pipes up from behind them, someone Oliver doesn’t recognize, “We called 911! An ambulance is coming, but…” 

_But she doesn’t look like she’s breathing. And she probably can’t wait that long._

Despite the fact that he feels like there’s a boulder on his chest, the words click, and Oliver instantly snaps into action. “Tommy, go get her epipen! She keeps it in her backpack, it’s in the sunroom.”

Tommy hops to his feet, shoving the crowd of people that had gathered out of the way as he runs off.

“This happened once at school when we were kids,” Thea mumbles, stroking Felicity’s hair back from her face. “Listen to me, Felicity,” she says, her voice a little louder, trying to get through to her. “You can’t panic, remember? Tommy will be right back, just stay calm. Stay calm.”

Felicity’s eyes are somewhere else, but she whimpers, nodding in response. A moment later, Tommy comes barreling back into the room, handing Oliver the epipen. 

“Take the blue cap off,” Thea instructs. Oliver grapples with himself to calm down too, forcing himself to breathe and do as she says. “Now the orange part goes in her leg. The needle is inside there, you have to push hard.”

He doesn’t stop to worry about if it’s going to hurt, because Felicity’s lips are turning blue and he knows this is the only thing he can do to help her. Without hesitation, he pushes the epipen into her thigh, holding it there as he stares up at her face, waiting.

Felicity’s eyes widen as she stares back at him.

After a few seconds, Thea removes the epipen.

And he doesn’t take a breath until Felicity does.

It feels like a lifetime, but eventually she sucks in a sharp, deep breath, and Oliver exhales. Thea sighs in relief too, dropping her head to Felicity’s shoulder. And behind him, he can feel the energy in the room relaxing, along with Tommy’s bellowing voice. “Thank fucking god! You nearly gave me a heart attack, Smoak!”

With that, their little audience starts to murmur. Oliver glances over his shoulder, finding Tommy. “Can you get them out of here?” His best friend nods in agreement, quickly starting to herd the crowd towards the door.

Oliver leans down, closing his eyes as he rubs her back and presses a kiss to the top of her head. Then another one. And then another until he can’t help but take deep breaths against her hair, smelling her, listening to her shaky breaths while Thea quietly reminds them both that she’s okay.

The relief inside of him is far too great to pretend. Oliver feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders. He can’t act like he doesn’t care or he’s not affected when Felicity could have died.

_Her allergy to peanuts is deadly._

He’s always known that, of course. He’s just never seen her have a reaction.

After a few moments, Felicity clears her throat. “Brownies.”

“What?” Thea asks, pulling back. 

Oliver leans back, too, looking down at Felicity as she raises a shaking hand up to the counter. He stands up, seeing the tray of brownies that Felicity points to. “Nuts,” she strains to tell them, making the events of the last few minutes perfectly clear. Oliver’s eyebrows push together, knowing that Felicity’s allergy has been severe her entire life, and that she has always been incredibly careful with what she eats and responsible to avoid nuts.

“Who brought these?” he mumbles to himself, still confused since he doesn’t remember seeing them.

“Callum,” Felicity says.

Oliver looks down at her again, forgetting about the brownies even as a wave of anger sweeps over him. Her face is still pale, her hands still shaking. His natural instinct is to move closer. He wants to wrap her up in his arms and just sit there for the next few days, listening to her breathe and making sure she’s okay. But Thea is already fussing over her. And he can tell from the look on Felicity’s face that despite how sick she feels, she still cares enough to be uncomfortable.

Caught between her friend and her boyfriend and the secret they’re keeping. 

He knows that Felicity wouldn’t appreciate it if he touched her, held her, kissed her like he wants to...because then Thea would obviously get the idea that he’s in love with her best friend.

“Let me get you some water,” Oliver grits out, frustrated by everything that happened in the past few minutes. Or the past week, if he’s being honest. As he hands Felicity the glass, her fingers brush against his, and he realizes how much he needs the contact. 

He’d seen her face turn blue. He’d seen her look up at him with wide, terrified eyes as she fought to get air in her lungs. And even if the worst of it was over, he hasn’t fully realized how much that affected him. It’s not something he’ll soon forget. 

Unable to help himself, Oliver reaches for her. “Come on, let’s get you to the table.”

She nods, keeping her eyes on him as if she can see how shaken he is and she’s trying to soothe him. Or maybe she’s not worrying about _his feelings_ at all, since she’s the one who just had the terrifying experience. 

Oliver internally kicks himself as he passes the water glass to Thea and helps Felicity get to her feet. She’s weak, her legs wobbly, and he ends up supporting most of her weight as they move to the small breakfast nook. He eases her onto the bench while Thea sets the water on the table. Then Oliver squats in front of her, looking into her eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Stupid,” Felicity croaks, trying to force a smile.

“You’re not stupid,” Thea instantly voices his own thoughts. 

“I asked Callum what was in the brownies and he said ‘nothing special,’” Felicity explains, her voice hoarse. “In hindsight, I probably should have realized that he thought I was asking about drugs, not peanuts.”

As she takes sips of water, Tommy comes back into the kitchen, followed by two EMTs from the ambulance that finally showed up. They ask them various questions, everything from when she consumed the brownie to when she had the reaction to when Oliver gave her the epinephrine. And all the questions make him realize that the whole event had only lasted a few minutes, despite the fact that it felt like he’d been staring at Felicity’s blue lips and pale skin for hours before she finally started to breathe again.

The EMTs look her over, check her vitals, and then advise them to keep a close eye on her.

By the time they leave, Felicity looks a lot better. She relaxes into the chair, closing her eyes. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow,” Oliver breathes. 

“That was kind of nuts.” Felicity instantly groans at her own words, shaking her head at herself. 

“I thought you were a goner for a second there, Smoak,” Tommy nudges her, trying to lighten the mood. “I was worried I might never be able to get you back for pushing me into the pool earlier.”

Felicity frowns, her eyes opening slowly. “You better not get me back. I think I’ve suffered enough karma, haven’t I?” She fixes him with a glare, and Tommy chuckles, mumbling an agreement. “So...where is everyone?”

“Out back,” Thea answers. “I’ll just go check on everyone and grab your stuff. We can stay in my room tonight.”

Felicity looks up at her with the best puppy dog eyes she can manage, her expression exhausted. “Would you hate me if I said I just want to go home?”

Thea chuckles, wrapping her arms around Felicity and hugging her tight. “Of course not, buddy. I understand. Oliver, would you mind babysitting the party while I give her a ride?”

“I’ll drive her,” Oliver quickly offers.

His sister shrugs, looking to Felicity. “That's cool with you?”

“Yeah,” she huffs out a breath, “yeah, that–that’s cool with me.”

“Okay, let’s get going then.” He’s not sure if his eagerness is because Felicity looks so tired that she could fall over at any minute, or if he’s desperate to have a moment alone with her. 

_Probably a little bit of both._

Understandably, Felicity doesn’t want to go outside and face the crowd of people who had just seen her having a severe allergic reaction on his kitchen floor. The relief on her face is evident when Thea tells her she’ll put her things in Oliver’s car so they can make a quick getaway. 

As she walks out of the room, Tommy gives them each a pointed look and follows right behind her, leaving Oliver and Felicity alone. And the moment that the room finally falls silent, he steps towards her, releasing a deep, necessary breath of relief and pulling her into his arms.

“Felicity…” 

He doesn’t know what to say. 

He’s never experienced the kind of fear that he felt just minutes ago, or the kind of relief that he feels now. 

And he can’t find the words in that moment to explain how much he loves her, or to explain all the reasons that his hands are still shaking as he runs them up and down her back.

“I’m okay,” Felicity mumbles into his chest, letting him know that she gets it. That she understands everything he’s feeling. Understands _him._

_Of course she does._

_Hasn’t she always?_

Even though he’s the one holding her, Oliver has the distinct feeling that she’s the one comforting him. He chuckles under his breath, pressing his lips into her hair. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I love you.”

Oliver sighs, hugging her tighter. “I love you _so_ much, Felicity. You have no idea how much.”

“Mmm,” she groans, tilting her lips up to his neck, kissing the patch of skin above his collar that she can reach. “I think I have an idea.”

With a smile, he glances down, “If I mean even half as much to you as you mean to me, then I’m a lucky man.”

Felicity leans back to see him, her eyes intent on his, studying him. “Keep saying things like that, and you’re going to be even luckier.”

Oliver raises his eyebrows, his face warming.

“Hey, glad to see you standing on two feet again.” The voice from the doorway makes Felicity jump, quickly trying to remove herself from his embrace, but Oliver’s instinct is to pull her closer.

Callum crosses his arms as he comes into the kitchen, his eyes shifting between them. “Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About the brownies.”

Oliver stiffens, not so ready to forgive and forget. But apparently Felicity is. “It’s fine,” she sighs. “It was an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

“Uh, not exactly,” Callum wrings his hands together. “Those are edibles.”

Felicity gapes at him, stunned, while Oliver moves to the tray of brownies. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he growls, feeling his anger ignite. 

The asshole raises his hands innocently, smiling as if to placate him.

“Oliver, calm down,” Felicity catches his attention while he mentally murders Callum O’Connor. He’s too worried about how much of it she’d eaten, and if she’d ever had an edible before, and when the drug would start to hit her. And most importantly, he’s stewing over the fact that the piece of shit standing in front of him _lied_ about it.

“She asked you,” Oliver snaps, remembering what Felicity had just told them. “She asked you what was in these...and you told her there was nothing.”

“I figured a little weed wasn’t going to hurt her, man.” Callum shrugs. 

He _shrugs._

And Oliver sees red. 

“Obviously I had no idea she was almost gonna drop dead because of it. That’s why I’m apologizing. I don’t want any trouble over this, you know?”

Oliver feels his whole body tighten in anger, his vision growing darker. “You don’t want any—” he huffs out a breath, not bothering to finish that sentence.

In an instant, Oliver is on him. Grabbing Callum’s shirt, he throws him backwards, swooping right in to pin him against the wall before the idiot can get his bearings. “What the hell, man!” Callum wails, “it was an accident!”

“Yeah,” Oliver answers through his teeth, “well what I’m going to do to you sure as fuck won’t be.” The rage that swarms his head is all he can focus on, mixing with the fear and frustration he’d already been feeling.

_It’s a rollercoaster._

And the only thing that makes sense is beating the _shit_ out of a punk who would do something like this. 

“Oliver! Stop!”

His head snaps down to Felicity and it registers that she’s right there, pulling on his arm. “Let go of me, Felicity.”

She scoffs at him, still trying her hardest to haul him away from Callum but he doesn’t move an inch. He looks back at the tattooed, greasy-haired bar owner, his anger still rolling off of him with an intensity he’s never felt before.

Apparently, it’s a night for all kinds of new emotions.

“No!” Felicity yanks on him again before finally giving up. As soon as she releases him, Oliver tightens his hold on Callum, slamming him against the wall again. The next thing he knows, Felicity is squeezing herself between them. “Look at me,” she cups his face between her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Oliver, look at me!”

He does, but it doesn’t do anything to calm him down. In fact, her wide pupils and pale lips just cause the tension inside of him to rise. “Felicity. Move.”

“You are _not_ getting into a fight at your sister’s birthday party over a _brownie_ , Oliver,” she hisses back at him. 

He narrows his eyes at Felicity, knowing that she’s trivializing what Callum did and what happened to her in an attempt to diffuse him. But he knows that his anger isn’t trivial. 

His anger might be heightened, but it isn’t misplaced. 

He might be overreacting a bit, but he isn’t wrong. 

Felicity’s fingers tighten on his neck. Her eyes bore into his, pleading with him as she whispers, “You’re not doing this over _me_.”

The words crash over him like a wave, dousing the fire. The last thing she wants is more attention on her. The last thing she needs is more drama to come from this night. It was obvious that she was already the center of attention, what people would remember about that night. And two guys brawling in the kitchen would just be the cherry on top.

Oliver’s eyes flicker back to Callum, and the smug bastard smirks, raising his eyebrows in challenge. “So we done here?”

“Yeah,” Oliver backs off, letting him go. And Felicity quickly follows the movement, her hands running over his shoulders and down his arms. 

“Good. That was fun and all, Queen...but I _did_ come in here and apologize, didn’t I? I see you and your dad have a lot in common. Anger issues and all that.”

He takes one step towards Callum before Felicity stops him. She yelps as she wraps her arms around his waist, attaching herself to him so that if he wanted to go after Callum again, he’d have to either peel her off first or take her with him. “Felicity,” Oliver huffs, “I’m good.”

She just holds onto him tighter.

“Right,” Callum laughs. “Besides, I’m not the one you want to be hitting anyway. It’s really your old man you should be swinging at, wouldn’t you say? Since he’s the one who swung first.”

Felicity turns around to face the other man, “Callum,” she seethes, “just get the hell out of here.”

“Whatever,” he laughs again, shaking his head as he walks out of the room. “Glad you’re feeling better, Felicity.”

She lets out a breath of relief as Callum makes his exit, but keeps her eyes on the door even after he’s out of sight, making sure he doesn’t come back. “What was that?” Felicity whispers after a moment. “That crack about Robert. He was talking like he knows what happened.”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Oliver mumbles back. “How the hell would Callum O’Connor know anything about me and my dad? Have you been talking to him about me?”

Although he didn’t intend for it to sound like an accusation, his harsh tone is clear. Even to his own ears.

Felicity gapes at him, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. A knot of guilt forms in Oliver’s stomach as he watches the wheels turning in her mind. 

_He’s giving her whiplash._

_God, he’s giving_ himself _whiplash._

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, before she has a chance to respond. They both know the answer to the question anyway. 

“Oliver, I haven’t seen Callum O’Connor since the night you picked us up from the bar. I haven’t been talking to him about you. I haven’t been talking to him, _period.”_

“I know, I know,” Oliver moves closer, taking her face between his hands. “I’m sorry. This night is just...exhausting, especially for you. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m kind of in ‘react first, think second’ mode. Thea probably mentioned the fight to O’Connor.” He leans in to kiss the tip of her nose, “I know you wouldn’t say anything.”

She melts into his touch, her eyes slipping shut. “That feels amazing,” Felicity groans. “You know you can trust me not to go blabbing these things to bartenders we barely know.” She frowns, “or to anyone, of course.”

“I know,” he smiles, assuring her with a kiss.

“I promise, Oliver...your safe is secret with me. Wait. I mean, your _secret_ is _safe_ with me.” 

He sighs, having done enough drugs in his party-going days to know that the edible is probably starting to hit her. “That’s the brownie talking. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Her eyes widen slightly, “Not to sound like a stereotypical stoner here, but can we stop for French fries on the way?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel responsible to quickly say a couple of things:  
> 1\. pulling out is not a good method for safe sex. Please wear condoms :)  
> And 2. no, I do not think that weed is the worst thing in the world and I’m not going to treat it as such. Felicity will be fine once she gets some french fries and a good night's sleep, but Callum giving her drugs without her knowledge is obviously not okay. We (and Oliver) aren’t through with that topic. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and loving on this story with me. I appreciate it :) Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please let me know what you think!!


	10. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Look at me," Oliver growls from beside her.  
> She feels his fingers in her hair, brushing it away from her neck so he can see her face, and her body moves towards him before her mind can catch up. A gravitational pull. Intense. Intoxicating.  
> Inevitable.

The moment that the doors begin to slide shut, Felicity can feel it. Tension fills the tiny elevator as soon as they’re alone. It’s nearly stifling.

His eyes are on her, just as they had been throughout the whole night. He’d barely even acknowledged their waiter during dinner, leaving her to handle all the pleasantries.

There was a look in his eye; one that had been present since he first saw her in her new, red dress. The way Oliver’s gaze slid down to the low cut, his jaw clenching as he said ‘you look incredible…’ sent a shiver down her spine. 

And Felicity feels another shiver now, as she keeps her eyes forward, ignoring the sense that if she looks at him...all hell will break loose.

The elevator is climbing. They’ll be back in the room soon. And they’re _adults_. They have control of themselves and their bodies. They can _wait._

Unfortunately, Oliver isn’t being very cooperative. 

Felicity can feel the heat of his body, just as strong as the heat of his eyes. Her hand itches to reach for him, yet at the same time, burns for the anticipation of _him_ touching _her._

“Look at me,” Oliver growls from beside her. 

She feels his fingers in her hair, brushing it away from her neck so he can see her face, and her body moves towards him before her mind can catch up. A gravitational pull. Intense. Intoxicating. 

_Inevitable._

Just as she finally meets his gaze, the elevator chimes, reaching their floor. _Thank god._

The doors open, and Oliver holds his hand out to keep them open. His lips trace her ear, his other hand sliding down her spine. “After you,” he purrs. Felicity fights another shiver as she quickly steps out of the elevator, her sights set on the door to their hotel room. 

She makes it almost half way down the hall before she realizes that Oliver isn’t next to her. Glancing over her shoulder, Felicity sees him trailing behind her by a few feet. Which might seem odd...if his attention wasn’t boldly focused on her ass. “Eyes up here, Mr.Queen,” she teases, turning around to face him.

Oliver’s attention moves up her body while Felicity reaches for his tie. He stares down at her face, his hands grabbing her hips and pulling her flush against him. “Fine by me. But...what about my hands? Where can I put those, Miss Smoak?” 

Felicity fights a moan as his hands slip around her body, cupping her ass in a firm grip, his thumbs kneading her flesh, hot and rough through the material of the dress.

Oh, teasing him? Big mistake.

Stopping in the middle of the hallway instead of running straight for the room? Bigger mistake. 

After knowing him for so long, Felicity had thought she...well, _knew him._ She knew who Oliver Queen was as a person. She knew that he had a huge heart, that he was a good friend, that he always wanted to do the right thing, that he was fiercely protective of the people he loved. 

Because of all that, Felicity wasn’t surprised by how well he treated her. Even when they first got together and things were uncertain, she never doubted that he would be anything but sweet and respectful. She always knew that he would be an amazing boyfriend. That part was completely predictable.

What wasn’t predictable though, or maybe what she didn’t dare to dream about, was _this_ side of him _._ The way he looked at her as if he wanted to devour her. How he mumbled dirty things in her ear at the dinner table while they waited for the check. That time he let her give him head in his shower. And the morning that he literally fucked her off the bed…

 _That_ side of him was unexpected. Perfectly welcome, of course. But unexpected.

Composing herself, Felicity leans back, slipping out of his embrace. She steps backwards to the door, keeping her eyes on him until she reaches it. Oliver watches her silently, his attention focused on every move she makes. 

“Oliver…” Felicity sucks in a breath. “Come open this door.”

He nods once, stalking towards her and closing the distance quickly. And like the glutton for torture that she is, Felicity keeps her body pressed against the door, waiting patiently until Oliver crowds her personal space again. He pins her between his body and the door, his breath warm on her cheek as he reaches into his pocket to find the room key. 

Felicity pinches her lips together when he moves to unlock the door and his hand grazes her ass in the process.

_He is going to be the death of her._

Their eyes meet as the door beeps, allowing them to finally, _finally_ be alone. Oliver swallows, his eyes on her mouth. She feels his hand twist the doorknob...and then he’s pushing it open, pushing her inside, and attacking her mouth with his own all in one breath. 

The door slams shut behind them. Felicity immediately starts pulling on his jacket to get the damn thing off. And Oliver scoops her into his arms, carrying her to the bed.

Despite how easy it is to get carried away, Felicity forces herself to slow down. If there was ever a time to take their time, it’s now.

On their last night together.

Tomorrow morning, Oliver has a plane to catch. _One way ticket back to Russia._

She knows it isn’t going to be forever that he’s there. He’ll be home in another three months. But when they only have a few hours until they have to say goodbye for that long…three months feels like a tragically long time. 

As Oliver lays her down on the bed, settling between her open legs and kissing his way up her neck, Felicity’s head is somewhere else. Outside the window, she can see the airport. A plane taking off. And it makes the moment feel almost ominous. 

It’s funny.

She’d been so worried about Oliver coming back to Starling, about how things would be between them, how things would feel since everything had changed, and what it would be like to be around his family. Only a mere two weeks ago, their separate time zones had felt more comfortable. Safe. A barrier. One last wall that kept them from crossing that point of no return. But then they’d crossed it, ripped down the wall, and didn’t care to regret a second of it.

And now, Felicity is _dreading_ the distance that’s about to be between them.

Oliver leans back, noticing that he doesn’t have her full attention. He frowns as she pulls her eyes away from the window to look up at him. “You okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Felicity sighs. “I’m just really glad you let me drive you to the airport.”

Oliver smiles at the way she simplifies his quite elaborate, and quite impressive, plan. He’d actually arranged for his jet to leave from Blüdhaven. Then he’d booked a room at the hotel that was across the street from the airport, and made a reservation at an Italian restaurant nearby. And finally, he’d coordinated with her mother to pack a bag for her... _date_ attire included. 

It gave them the rare opportunity to be alone. To spend time together before he leaves. It’s exactly what they need. 

And Oliver had planned the whole thing so that they could have a night away from Starling, where they didn’t have to worry about being out together, or his family. They all thought he was on a plane already. Oliver did all the work to make it happen, and it made her feel loved. Important. Because he wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if she wasn’t important to him.

The only thing Felicity has to do is drive his car back to Tommy’s in the morning.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Oliver asks, watching her closely. “You look...is something wrong?”

“No,” Felicity groans, knowing that she can’t hide what she’s thinking even if she wanted to. “To be honest, I’m not really looking forward to tomorrow. I just want to keep spending time with you. I don’t want this to end.”

His expression changes, deflating slightly, but he bounces back in record time. “Then let’s think about tomorrow, tomorrow.”

She nods willingly. The only thing worse than saying goodbye to him would be ruining the extremely thoughtful night he’d put together, and _then_ having to say goodbye to him. “You’re right. By the way...” Felicity mumbles, picking her head off the pillow so she can rub her nose against his. “Best,” she kisses the corner of his mouth. “First,” then she kisses his jaw. “Date,” his cheek. “Ever,” his lips.

Oliver huffs out a breath, pressing himself snugly between her legs. “Technically our first date was the picnic in the park.”

Felicity hums, “True.” Then she leans forward, repeating her path of kisses all over again as she mumbles “best _second_ date ever,” against his skin. She feels him shiver, making her smile.

“Before we forget all about tomorrow...did you set your alarm?”

Shaking her head, Felicity takes his chin between her fingers and slants her lips against his, answering with a groan, “No. My phone is in my purse. Can you go grab it?” Even as she asks, her legs wind around his hips, holding him there.

“Later,” Oliver moans back, his hips snapping as he rubs his hardening length against her center. 

“Oliver, we need an alarm or you’ll miss your flight!”

“No, I won’t.” He grunts, continuing to suck on her throat.

“We’re going to forget to set one if we don’t do it now.” 

“No, we won’t.” 

“Yes,” Felicity mumbles into his mouth. “We will. Because when I’m done with you, we won’t be thinking about tomorrow or your stupid flight.” 

Oliver pushes her hair back, opening his eyes to look at her. 

With her hair spread out on the pillow, her eyes bright and heady, and her lips swollen from his mouth, she looks better than he ever could have imagined. And he’d had more than a few daydreams that involved Felicity and a bed. 

Turns out, reality is so, so much better.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Oliver whispers, giving himself a moment to admire her as he pushes her hair away from her face. “Maybe forgetting that alarm would be a good thing. Forget I mentioned it.” 

Felicity slaps his chest, “Don’t tease me, Oliver. Go set the alarm. Oh, and grab the condom that I put in your coat pocket while you’re up. Then get back in this bed.” 

After another kiss, she loosens her legs from around him, and Oliver reluctantly pulls away. He hops off the bed, retrieving her phone before searching for the jacket that Felicity had tossed somewhere in the dark room. “Ah,” he says, finally finding it on the floor by the dresser. He fishes the condom out, hurrying back over and dropping it on the bed next to her. “Why did you put a condom in my pocket, anyway?” 

Felicity laughs, setting her phone on the nightstand before looking up at him. “Just in case you wanted to pull me into the bathroom at the restaurant or something.” 

Oliver blinks in surprise, caught off-guard. And then the idea makes his heart race. The image of Felicity with that dress hiked up to her stomach, bent over a vanity while he took her from behind makes his dick react, his pants tightening. And whatever Felicity sees on his face makes her eyes widen.

She’d been prepared for a quickie in the bathroom. On their first official date. Which, yeah...that would have been hot as hell. If only he would’ve thought of it. If only she would’ve initiated it herself. “And _why_ didn’t you put that idea in my head sooner than right now?” He grits out, trying to control his breath as arousal floods his system.

With a smirk, Felicity lays back onto the pillows, letting her legs fall open as she slowly slides her hands up her thighs, pulling the dress up with it. “This will be just as good,” she murmurs. “I promise.”

_Fuck._

Oliver stands perfectly still, one foot still on the floor, his other knee on the bed as he stares down at her. Another plane taking off outside catches Felicity’s attention, her eyes flickering to the window. 

He follows her gaze, watching her out of the corner of his eye as a new image suddenly pops into his mind. 

“It’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?” Felicity asks.

Oliver swallows, nodding as he wonders if she would like what he’s thinking about. It’s not quite as titillating as being dragged into a bathroom by Felicity Smoak, but the idea that comes to his mind makes his cock even harder. _Achingly_ hard. He shifts off the bed, holding out his hand for her instead, “Come here…”

Felicity cocks her head to the side, giving him a quizzical glance, but she takes his hand without another word or thought, and follows him over to the window.

Silently, Oliver guides her to stand in front of it before he steps behind her. He gently gathers her hair into his fist, lifting it away from her skin so he can kiss the nape of her neck. Felicity sucks in a sharp breath as his other hand finds her zipper and slowly lowers it down. And then he steps back, letting her dress fall to the floor.

Oliver runs his hands over her thighs, his fingertips ghosting up to her ribs and down to her hips. He can’t help but smile when he feels her shiver, her body pushing back into his. _And to think he was worried for even a moment about whether or not Felicity would go along with this…_

“Put your hands on the glass,” Oliver mumbles in her ear.

Her breath hitches in her throat, her head dropping back to rest on his shoulder. As Felicity presses her palms against the window, doing as she’s told, Oliver buries his face in her shoulder and tightens the grip he still has on her hair, pulling on it. He scrapes his teeth along the side of her neck. A moan falls from her lips like music to his ears, her ass grinding against him.

Sliding his hand down her stomach, he cups her sex, feeling how wet she is through her underwear. He moans, happy that she’s on the same page as him because he doesn’t want to wait any longer. Oliver nudges his hand into her panties, his fingers diving between her folds, swirling in her juices.

“Felicity…” he keens, opening his eyes and slowly circling her clit with his middle finger. As he pushes two tender fingers inside, Felicity cries out, her body grinding down on his fingers and offering the perfect pressure on his cock. 

Taking her in, Oliver struggles to keep his breaths even. Her red lips are parted, her eyebrows furrowed, her fingertips gripping the glass. She picks her head up as he slows the pace, resisting the urge to snap his hips and chase the sweet friction of rubbing himself against her ass until he comes.

She doesn’t say a word. But after a silent breath, Felicity drops her hands to her underwear and shoves them down, letting them land on the floor next to her dress. Oliver licks his lips, his fingers still moving, spreading the wetness that now covers her swollen pussy. And then Felicity reaches behind herself until her hands find the button of his pants. 

Those are next to go, shortly followed by his boxers, which he leaves in a pool around his ankles because he simply can’t be bothered to let go of her long enough to take them all the way off. As soon as his clothes are off, Felicity pushes against him, his hard length sliding between her legs. “Fuck,” Oliver gasps, his hips thrusting on instinct as he disappears in her thighs, making him slick with her essence. He can feel the heat of her, wetting his cock as he slips between her folds. The cool air nips at the head of his erection as he plunges in and out. 

Out of nowhere, Felicity’s hand appears, waving the condom in his face that she couldn’t have been hiding anywhere other than her bra. Oliver smirks, taking it and swiftly tearing the wrapper open, rolling the condom on himself.

Felicity spreads her legs, her hands flat on the window in front of her as she bends over, just far enough to let her cheek and her breasts press against the cool glass, too. Oliver grits his teeth at the sight of her like that, stroking himself a couple of times before he lines himself up at her entrance and thrusts home.

He closes his eyes and they both sigh, taking satisfaction in one of his favorite feelings in the world; when he first enters her tight pussy and he can feel her walls pulsing around him, adjusting to him, welcoming him. 

It’s a small moment of relief. Something that always feels incredible. She throbs around him, and his own body jerks in response. In desire.

_It’s pure pleasure._

Oliver pulls out slowly, torturing the both of them, before slamming his hips back in. 

“Yes!” Felicity whines when he grabs her hips, holding her steady as he does it again and again. “Oh, god. _Oliver…_ ” Her hands squeak against the glass, scrambling for purchase, and all the while, her body moves with him, her ass hitting his thighs with a delicious slap that he has the perfect view of.

Bending his knees, he pounds into her harder, watching as a drop of sweat falls from his forehead, mixing with the sheen of moisture on Felicity’s back. 

Oliver picks his head up, glancing out at the world in front of them. At the planes full of people, coming and leaving, who have no knowledge of the world that he and Felicity create all on their own. 

Felicity’s hand fumbles up his arm, her breath fogging the window, to untangle his fingers from her hair. Guiding his hand, she pushes it down her thigh. His pace slows, confused for a moment, but then she lifts her leg, urging him to hold on to it as she bends forward even more. Felicity cries out in approval as his thrusts reach deeper than before, her leg opening wider for him.

“Fuck!” Oliver grunts, hauling her close. He flings her leg higher on his arm, his hand landing on top of hers where she still grips the glass. His hips move faster. Harder. And with his other hand, he reaches around her again.

He can see her face in the reflection of the glass. He can see the picture that the two of them make, his attention focusing on them rather than the lights and the runway of the airport in the distance. 

And holy hell, is it a sobering, sexy as _all fuck_ kind of picture.

A moment later when Felicity opens her eyes and notices the same thing, he can tell that she’s close. It doesn’t take much longer for Felicity to come; her fist clenching beneath his hand, her body rocking against his fingers, her walls squeezing around his dick. 

He presses his hand against her hot sex, finding her clit and rubbing quick, punishing circles. With one final thrust, he seats himself deep inside of her, stopping his movements just to savor the way Felicity feels when she comes around him. “Oh my god! Oliver! I’m coming! _Yes_ , Oliver!” Her hips move in a torturous circle, grinding on his dick, drawing out her own orgasm. She screams his name again, louder than he’s ever heard her be, not a care in the world about who can hear.

Because _this_ , this moment, it’s _their_ world.

Felicity’s leg, the one still bouncing in the air, quivers as she comes down from her orgasm, and Oliver carefully lowers it back to the floor as he kisses her temple, down to her cheek, and back again. Knowing that he isn’t far from his own release, he leisurely sways his hips, his thrusts shallow, using the moment to compose himself. To make it last.

When even that becomes too much, Oliver slowly slips out of her, letting out a long, calming breath as he winds his arms around her waist and picks her up. He quickly steps out of the clothes wrapped around his ankles and carries Felicity to the bed, laying her down on her stomach.

Part of him wants to follow after her, bury himself in her slick warmth again and make love to her until he reaches his own climax, which would surely come quick. She glances at him over her shoulder, a slight frown on her face as if she expects him to do exactly that. Oliver shakes his head, pausing for one more moment to drink her in. And then he grabs her legs and flips her onto her back in one fell swoop. Felicity yelps in surprise, but a wide smile spreads across her face when he kneels on the floor in front of her, and a sweet giggle fills the room when he pulls her across the bed so he can reach her. 

With Felicity’s legs hanging from the edge, Oliver nudges her knee aside. He kisses his way up one thigh and down the other before he turns his attention to her waiting core. His first kiss is chaste, tasting her. She lifts her head up to watch him, and he groans against her wet lips. Burying his face between Felicity’s thighs and listening to the sounds that come out of her is incredible. The way she grinds against his mouth with total, mindless abandon is one of the sexiest things he’s ever seen. The feeling of her fingers, which always card through his hair, tugging on it gently whenever he shoves his tongue inside her, or nips at her clit, or sucks on her tender folds, is _perfect_. 

She knows just how to touch him. How to work him up. How to make _him_ the one seeing stars as he eats her out.

Oliver hums, noticing when her back begins to arch off the bed.

And a few minutes later, Felicity is falling again, her gorgeous moan of pleasure giving him a sense of satisfaction, a new type of pride that’s _addicting_ to feel. To know that he can make her feel this good. _Him_.

Unable to take it any longer, Oliver crawls up the bed, lifting Felicity with one arm wrapped around her back as he clumsily guides them further up the bed.

Her hands land on his face as he hovers over her. The smile on her face is warm. She kisses him; a heated, needy kiss that makes him realize he hadn’t done it nearly enough tonight. 

_But oh, he’ll have hours for that._

She spreads her legs, a sharp breath blowing across his face when he pushes inside of her once again.

Oliver keeps his thrusts slow and hard, ramming into Felicity with just the right force that he knows she likes. His mouth melds to hers, their tongues meeting somewhere in the middle. Feeling his orgasm climbing from his toes, hot and fast, he slips his hand between them, pushing between her folds as he picks up the pace, rubbing her clit.

“Jesus Christ, Oliver! Are you trying to set a record?” She moans into his mouth, making him grin.

“Maybe,” he growls back, his voice thick with the pleasure that’s rising up his spine. It’s so easy to get lost in how amazing sex with her is. So easy to lose himself in all of it, to the point where he can finally understand what it’s like to truly not know where he ends and she begins.

Which feels huge, and new to him, and _important_. Yet at the same time...so, so _natural_.

“I love feeling you come,” he tells her, his hand moving faster on her clit.

Felicity’s nails scratch down his back, her hips rising off the bed to roll against his relentless fingers with each snap of his hips. She moves with him, thrust for thrust, until her body stiffens yet again. Her nails dig into his shoulders as her mouth falls open, another orgasm washing over her, quick but hard.

“Oh, fuck,” he pushes her back down onto the mattress as he continues to pump in and out. The sting of her nails on his skin makes him lose all rhythm and control, her pussy squeezing him.

As if he’d been waiting for her, his body finally lets go, his orgasm crashing over him. Oliver moans, his thrusts shallow, his cock jerking inside of her until he has nothing left. Finally, he stops, letting out a satisfied groan of her name as he shoves into her to the hilt, too sensitive to keep moving anymore.

When he comes back to his senses, the first thing he notices is that Felicity’s nails, which had been biting into his back a minute ago, are now gliding up and down his skin as softly as possible. But he can still feel the sting she’d left behind. _That’ll leave marks._

Her touch almost feels apologetic, making him smile as he picks his head up from her neck. Felicity opens her eyes, and the blissful smile she offers back to him makes his chest fill with that _addicting_ type of pride.

Their first time sleeping together was followed up with nearly three days of mind-blowing sex, so Felicity is no stranger to a myriad of orgasms under his willing hands. But he knows he’s never made her come three times in a row that quickly. 

A short glance at the clock tells him that it had to be under twenty minutes from her first orgasm to the third. She was right, he’d been a man possessed, subconsciously going for some kind of record. Because in the back of his mind, he wanted to give her something she’d remember for the next three months when he’s not there. Until he can see her again and do it all over again.

“Oliver,” Felicity raises her eyebrows, the look on her face making it clear that she’d caught him red handed and knows exactly what he’s thinking. “Do your victory lap later, please.”

“You deserve a victory lap, too,” he counters. “For a whole list of reasons that are not limited to that amazing dress you wore tonight or how hot you looked pressed against that window.”

She sighs, turning over to snuggle against his chest. “What do you want to do now?” 

Oliver looks down at her, his hand finding hers where it roams across his chest. He brings her fingers to his lips. “Are you tired?”

“Not at all,” Felicity whispers, shaking her head.

“Then I say we shower, find somewhere that’s serving milkshakes, come back here so I can hold you, and then we watch the sunrise.”

Felicity beams up at him, her fingers toying with his thumb as she answers, “That sounds almost perfect.”

“Almost?” Oliver cocks his head to the side, pretending to be offended that she doesn’t think his plan is _completely_ perfect.

She nods, “You forgot to mention more sex.”

“Well I thought that went without saying,” he says with a wink.

A couple of hours later, the two of them are back in the hotel room, stripping off their clothes again before happily crawling into bed with milkshakes they’d bought from an all-night diner. They both agree that the drinks are not nearly as good as Big Belly Burger, but they have no complaints.

They enjoy their milkshakes while naked in bed together. They stay up to talk like the old friends that they are. And they screw each other between the sheets like the new lovers that they are, too. Then they fight sleep long enough to watch the sunrise over the field the next morning, each of their eyes heavy as they sit on the floor of the hotel room in front of the window. 

They’re still awake when the alarm eventually goes off; Felicity’s head in Oliver’s lap while he leans against the headboard of the bed, his fingers in her hair, and a silence between them that feels like home.

_No complaints at all._

* * *

Three hours before Oliver’s flight is scheduled for takeoff, they share a plate of breakfast in the hotel lobby, neither of them feeling particularly hungry despite their ridiculously long night. Because their time together is running out. And they both know how hard it’s going to be to go back to being apart.

Feeling Oliver’s eyes on her as she pushes a strawberry around with her fork, Felicity stabs it and takes a bite, just to keep him from telling her to eat more. He doesn’t say much while they eat, but his warm hand on her thigh is all that she really needs in order to feel connected to him.

They’re both exhausted, which doesn’t exactly help when it comes to keeping their emotions in check. Every time Felicity thinks about watching Oliver get on that plane, she gets a lump in her throat and has to blink back tears.

And then she kicks herself for being so sappy about it.

This isn’t the end of _them_ , but in some aspects, it’s the end of the beginning. When they first came home for spring break, she’d been careful around him, unsure whether or not it was real between them and worried that his feelings for her weren’t as deep as the ones she had for him.

_How silly that all seems now._

After they finish their food, Oliver gets his bag from the room and they decide to walk to the airport, taking their time, strolling down the street and across the parking lot to the hangar. With to-go cups of hotel coffee in hand, Felicity settles into the uncomfortable chair next to Oliver, resting her head on his shoulder while they wait for the jet to be ready.

Eventually, the flight attendant informs them that they’re ready for takeoff, and Felicity stands up on trembling legs as Oliver tosses his bag over his shoulder. The moment that he looks at her, she quickly wraps her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.

“Three months will feel like nothing,” Oliver mumbles in his ear. But his voice is shaky. Apprehensive. And so unlike him that it makes Felicity squeeze him tighter.

Three months is going to feel like a very long time and they both know it.

A lot of things can change in three months. 

_People_ can change in three months. 

Minds can change.

Plus, things are still so new between them. The last thing she wants to do is test their limits. Despite how they feel about each other, maybe their relationship isn’t solid enough yet to survive three months away from each other. And even when he comes back to town for Robert’s party in the summer, it will only be to visit.

His job in Russia is sort of an indefinite thing. Given the way that things had gone between him and his dad over the last couple of weeks...Felicity doubted that Oliver would be jumping at the chance to move back to Starling anytime soon, either.

“Yeah,” sighs anyway, ignoring all the doubt in her mind and praying that he can’t hear it in her voice. “We’ll both be so busy, it’ll go by quick.” Oliver hums in agreement, his arms encompassing her as he presses his cheek to the top of her head. “I’m still going to miss you,” Felicity whispers.

He nods, kissing her hair. “I’m going to miss you, too, baby.”

When Oliver leans back, he smiles, his eyes glistening with the faintest moisture. Felicity cups his face, offering a watery smile of her own as she pushes up onto her toes and pulls him down at the same time.

Their lips meet somewhere in the middle.

It’s sweet, and tender, and almost as if he’s trying to pour _everything_ that he feels for her into that kiss. Felicity welcomes it all, kissing him back until the flight attendant has to interrupt them so the jet can leave at its scheduled time.

Oliver smiles to the apologetic woman in acknowledgment, and she makes her way back up the stairs to the jet. Then he sighs, pulling Felicity close for one more hug. And Felicity savors it.

“The hotel room is booked until 5:00 tonight,” he tells her. “Go back and rest, okay? You should at least get a few hours of sleep before you try to drive home.”

She shakes her head, enamored with this man who shows her, again and again, how thoughtful he truly is. How caring. How easily he reveals the way he feels about her when he worries about her like that. 

Oliver Queen wears his heart on her sleeve. For her. 

_That can be enough to get them through these months, can’t it?_

“I love you, too,” Felicity smiles.

Oliver chuckles, “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

Three hours after leaving Oliver at the airport, Felicity is fast asleep in the hotel room, once she’d had a nice cry by herself, of course.

Three days after she leaves Blüdhaven, she’s packing her own bag to head back to school.

And three weeks after Oliver arrives in Russia, he’s missing Felicity _fiercely._

It’s affecting his mood how much he misses her. Worse, his moodiness is affecting his job.

Oliver tells himself over and over that it’s only been three weeks...so if he doesn’t get his shit together now, the next three _months_ might kill him.

One morning, the first thing he sees coming into the office is Isabel Rochev. She’s waiting for him in the lobby, tapping her foot with her arms crossed like his high school principal used to do every time he’d waltz into the building an hour late. But he’s always been on time for work, and this morning is no different. Isabel just takes sick pleasure in bombarding him at the door, as if she’s hoping to ruin his day with a list of all the shit she thinks he’s doing wrong.

That particular morning, she feels the need to nag him about _favoritism_ , of all things. Apparently, she doesn’t think it’s fair that he chose Curtis Holt instead of her to lead the Unidac project. And apparently she thinks that attacking him at the front door with it is the best plan of action. No, not just attacking... _accusing_ him of not asking _her_ because...in her words, he has a vendetta against her.

Isabel is great at her job. Oliver is not so dense that he can’t see that, which is why he’s been willing to keep his mouth shut and deal with her since he first moved to Moscow. But it’s also impossible for him to ever forget that she slept with his _father_. Her _boss._

“I’m sorry,” Oliver cuts off her rant, holding his hand up. “I’m just having a hard time right now wrapping my head around this complaint. Coming from _you_.” He raises his eyebrows. “Are you telling me that you think Curtis, our expert in technology, is incapable of developing Unidac’s tech program with them, or are you just upset that I didn’t pick you?”

“I’m making valid points here, Oliver. You’re not listening. It’s not just about the tech. I can do more on this project than Holt can—”

“And I fail to hear those points when you talk to me like a child. I’ve let this go on for too long, Isabel. You’ve made it clear that you lack respect for me and my position. But you seem to forget that I’m your boss now. Not my dad.”

She rolls her eyes, “Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Well, don’t expect me to do for you, or anyone in this company, what my father did for you. I believe that success is earned, Isabel. I’ve been trying to achieve my own yet you fight me every step of the way. And we both know that the circumstances that got you here are less than honorable. So don’t talk to me about _favoritism_.”

Isabel’s mouth pops open in surprise. For the first time ever, she seems speechless. And Oliver’s automatic response is to feel guilty. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I just had a rough night.”

“If you can’t handle your responsibilities, Oliver, I’d be more than happy to talk to Robert about having me take over.”

And just like that, his patience is gone again.

“Oh, give it a rest, Isabel,” Oliver snaps. “Look at all the good it’s done for you. From what I can tell, the only place my father has gotten you, is exiled to Russia while he moved on with his life in Starling. Without you. _Talk_ to him all you want. About me, about your twisted relationship, about whatever the hell you want. But when are you going to realize that your opinion has _zero_ weight with him?”

For a woman who often seems more robot than human, Oliver is surprised to see the shock on Isabel’s face. His words had struck a nerve, that much he could tell. But she composes herself in a matter of seconds. “We have a meeting with Richard Rowe at 10:00,” she says, raising her chin. “Don’t be late.”

Oliver sighs as she walks off, rubbing his fingers against his temples. He could already feel a headache coming on, thanks to Isabel Rochev.

It doesn’t help that he hasn’t spoken to Felicity in nearly two days. She called him while he was in a meeting yesterday, then by the time he got home and called her back, she was asleep and didn’t answer.

 _Things will slow down soon_ , he keeps telling himself. His trip home wasn’t very productive, work-wise that is. It’d been hard to get anything done with his father either stone-walling him, punching him in the face, or avoiding him completely. And his team in Russia had fallen behind a bit in his absence, too.

There’s a lot to catch up on and a lot to keep track of. A lot of stress. A lot of new deals and big changes for Queen Consolidated. But he refuses to let his relationship with Felicity be the thing that falls through the cracks.

A few hours into his morning, Oliver gets a text from Felicity, prompting him to abandon the mind-numbing report he’d been reading and pick up his phone. 

Felicity: _I’m sorry I missed you last night. Thank you for the sweet message. It was the perfect thing to wake up to :)_

Oliver smiles, telling himself that if he has to leave a message again, he’ll put more effort into it. All he’d said was that he missed her voice and couldn’t wait to see her again. And of course, that he loved her. But if that made his girlfriend happy first thing in the morning, he’s certain that he can do a lot better.

Oliver: _Are you free to talk now?_

Felicity: _Yeah, I’m done for the day. Doing my best not to fall asleep in front of the TV. Aren’t you at work?_

Standing up, Oliver walks over to his door and shuts it, appreciating that his assistant doesn’t pay him any attention and keeps his eyes on his computer. Welcoming the privacy, Oliver has the phone ringing before he even reaches his desk again. 

“Hey, you,” Felicity answers, her voice thick with sleep. But he can tell she’s smiling. 

“Good morning,” Oliver hums back, closing his eyes as he falls back into his chair. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she yawns. “You?”

“Better now,” he sighs back, finding all the comfort he needs in the sleepy sound of her voice. 

“Why aren’t you at QC?”

“I am. In my office.”

“Oh, Oliver. You didn’t have to call me at work…”

“I did,” Oliver chuckles. “Trust me, after the Isabel shitstorm I had waiting for me this morning, I did. 

She makes a sympathetic noise, letting him know that she understands. He wasn’t going to talk badly about Isabel to his team. That would be unprofessional. And there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d say something about her to his father. So, Felicity ended up hearing all of his best complaining. Lucky for him, she was just as good at calming him down as she was at giving him advice on how to handle it. “Is it about the Curtis thing?”

“Yeah, she gave me an earful in the lobby. And I’m sure I haven’t heard the last of it,” he snorts. “But the team would thank you right now. I tend to be less crabby after I get to talk to you.” Felicity giggles at that, and it’s so easy to see her face in his mind. 

Yep. This is _exactly_ what he needed this morning. “Can you just...” Oliver sighs, “remind me why I moved to Russia in the first place. This seemed like such a great idea at the time and now it feels like the worst decision I’ve ever made. I already wish I’d never left that hotel room with you.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad, Oliver. We’ll get through it. We’re hardly in the same place that we were before, right? Things have changed. I’m your girlfriend now, for one.”

He smiles, knowing that she’s trying to cheer him up. “And I love you, for two.”

Felicity hums in agreement, “I love you back, for three.”

“God, Felicity...I miss you so much already. It’s _crazy_.”

“Yeah?” Felicity asks. “Well, what do you miss?”

Her tone makes him pause, his eyes snapping open again.

“I—” Oliver clears his throat, wondering if he was reading that tone right, or if he was just hoping to hear it. “Everything. These phone calls aren’t quite the same now that I know what it’s like to...be with you. In person.”

“And...what would you do right now?” Felicity mumbles. “If you were here with me? In person.” 

_Nope. He was definitely reading her tone correctly._

Oliver calls on all the control he can manage before he asks, “Felicity Smoak...are you horny?”

“Maybe,” she sings.

He lets out a sharp breath, his body reacting to her laughter, her teasing, the same way it always has. He shifts in his chair, his sudden hard-on making him uncomfortable already. “Baby. I’m at work…”

“I know. In your office. Are you alone?”

“Of course but I...” His eyes flicker to the very large, very obvious glass wall where he can see his assistant’s desk. Poor Colby doesn’t need to walk in on this. “I have a meeting soon. This isn’t really the best time for—”

“Phone sex?” Felicity finishes for him.

_That would certainly be new._

His body is getting increasingly warm, his curiosity peaked. 

_Would Felicity really do that? Would she talk dirty to him over the phone? Touch herself? Coax him to do the same? How on earth is he supposed to go about the rest of his day when he won’t be able to think of anything but this?_

Closing his eyes, Oliver does his best to get a grip, but Felicity laughs again, and his pants grow even tighter. “You know...there was a time when I thought you were innocent. So invigoratingly sweet.

“Hey, I’m still invigoratingly sweet,” Felicity whines, a pout in her voice that rings loud and clear.

“You are,” Oliver agrees with that, “but you’re also dangerously seductive and I could have used a little bit of a warning about that.”

“No,” she murmurs, “I kind of like how it surprises you.”

“Oh, you’re definitely full of surprises, Ms. Smoak. You plan on making these next few months hard for me, don’t you?”

She chuckles, “Are you saying I haven’t made it hard for you yet?”

_Fuck. She definitely did. Of course she did. Thank god he’s sitting behind his desk._

Oliver groans, his eyes dropping to his tented pants. “I walked right into that one,” he mumbles back.

“Just think,” Felicity taunts him, “last time you left for Russia, I gave you the Hōzen. My present this time is much better.”

“What present?” Oliver asks with a frown.

And her answer nearly kills him. “You’ll see. I think I’ll send it to you a little later. When you’re _really_ missing me.”

Glancing up at the door, he notices that Colby is walking towards him. His assistant raises both of his hands and mouths ‘ten minutes.’ Oliver nods once in acknowledgement, lowering his voice as he tells Felicity, “I have to go, but I’ll FaceTime you in approximately,” he leans back in his chair, checking his watch, “Four hours and twenty three minutes. So Felicity...I expect you to be ready for me.”

She giggles, making his heart leap in his chest. “I guess I could wait until then. If I have to…”

“You do,” Oliver growls. The idea of her touching herself after they hang up, without him, is just as upsetting as it is arousing. 

“I’ll set an alarm in case I fall asleep again. Call me as soon as you get home,” Felicity instructs.

Oliver nods to himself, already counting down the minutes. “Absolutely.”

It takes him the whole eight minutes he has before his meeting to calm himself, and his body, down. But Oliver walks into the board room confidently once he manages to re-focus himself on work. He’d been hoping that talking to his girlfriend would make him feel better, and it did, but now he just can’t wait for the day to be over so he can get back to his apartment.

Because he fully intends to finish what Felicity started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, it's been a while! This was kind of the point in my writing for this fic where the details have really come together and my plan for the ending has solidified. I'm hoping that means I can get the last chapters out quickly, but I don't want to make any promises about when updates will be because of course I don't want to disappoint anyone. Just know how much I appreciate everyone who is still here, still looking forward to more of this story, and still commenting. I love all of you so so much and thank you for the continued support:)  
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!!


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